


One True Love --Take Two

by eastwoodgirl



Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Angels, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Romance, Soulmates, Supernatural - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 09:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 36,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1739426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eastwoodgirl/pseuds/eastwoodgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Second Chances: True love can come more than once in a lifetime... And Darren and Chris are about to find out just that with the help of an unlikely angel-in-training. CRISSCOLFER. RPF. AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. PROLOGUE: Take One

**Author's Note:**

> Summary: Darren believed in soulmates, forever and true love. So when Fate decides to take all of those away from him, he becomes an empty shell. Chris is your typical cynic. But when Chance gives him a way to change his destiny, he reluctantly grabs on to it and he is never the same again. A sassy angel-in-training becomes the (somewhat) unwilling bridge for these two to come together for a second chance. CRISSCOLFER. RPF. Pre-Season 1 and 2 AU.
> 
> Pairings: past Darren/OFC (briefly, back story, mentioned), slow-moving Darren/Chris (MAIN), same OFC/OMC (implied), others mentioned and implied.
> 
> Disclaimer: The persons depicted in this work of fiction do not necessarily engage in the conducts and practices as stated below. The author reserves her right to employ creative liberty in the course of writing this story, but no intention to infringe any copyright, personal liberties and the like of any real, or otherwise, character is made known. Any recognizable element belong to their respective owners and shall be acknowledged in due course. Any original character, song or the like belongs to the author and shall be subject to her personal copyright and the laws surrounding them in the locality where she originates from. OR: I do not own anything. Especially not Darren and Chris. OCs and original songs are mine. Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and FOX. There.
> 
> Warning: Angst, Fluff, Songs. HP, AVPM and AVPS References. OC's. Mentions of Death and Dying, Supernatural Elements such as angels, purgatory, heaven and reincarnation will be encountered. Sudden tense changes are expected. Language. Eventual Slash. RPF. Some known facts were twisted to suit my needs. For this particular chapter: Brief Darren/OFC.
> 
> A/N: Please be patient. This story is most definitely CRISSCOLFER. I do not multi-ship, but for the sake of my plot, please allow me this concession. Chris will make an appearance on the first chapter, which is where our story proper begins. So sit back, relax, and enjoy the back story. I hope you find time to leave me reviews as well –C.
> 
> P.S. Song mentioned: Circles –an original composition I wrote in college that I'm lending to the story.
> 
> Legend: "Dialogue/ Speech" 'Thoughts' Flashback Notes/Lyrics

**PROLOGUE: Take One**

" _It's California, not the moon, silly. It's bound to rain sometime."_

**(April 2009 –Manila, Philippines)**

Darren Criss removed the headphones tangled with his long mess of curls as the plane he was on taxied on the runway of the Ninoy Aquino International Airport. He quickly stole a glance outside the small window to his immediate left. The sun seemed to have just risen, bathing the horizon in hues of yellow and orange. He let out a deep breath that he did not know he was holding. It should not be that bright. Not today. Not ever.

The artist in him struggled to supply the fitting description to justify what exactly he was feeling at that moment: Conflicted? Erratic? Turbulent? Lost? He was a mess of emotions. Darren missed the call for passengers to finally alight the plane as a pang of hurt crossed his chest. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to will away the not-so distant memories…

Her name was Chelsea Cruz.

Chelsea was the only daughter of his mom's best friend. And in true Rom-Com fashion, Darren's mother Cerina had wanted to set him up with her. He first met Chelsea when they were in both in grade school. He remembered his curly-haired, honey-eyed, nine year-old self seeing this pigtailed, onyx-eyed, raven-haired girl laugh at something Darren's mother was saying. He had just come home from school then and was surprised to see his mom talking to another Filipina. Mrs. Cerina Criss rarely had friends over since the family had transferred back to California from a brief stay in Honolulu (where Charles Criss had begun a banking empire).

Darren carefully approached. His mom saw him, and with a wide grin, motioned for him to come closer.

"Darren, this is my good friend, Joan Cruz and her daughter, Chelsea. I believe she is about your age. Why don't you introduce yourself?"

Joan Cruz looked quite similar to his mother, with their identical smiles. He politely shook the woman's hand before turning towards the more interesting of their pair of visitors (in his own humble opinion, of course). Now that he was up close, the first thing that he noticed were her eyes. Instead of black at first glance, he found out that they were actually a very dark brown –and they sparkled, as if she had just finished tearing up. Those eyes appraised him, scrutinized him well. After a beat, he held his hand out. Chelsea stared at the proffered limb for a moment before tossing her long raven curls behind her shoulders and grasping his hand. The contact somehow made Darren smile. And in that moment, it never came to him to ask his mom why of all people, was she setting him up with this seemingly spirited girl; it never crossed his mind to question why on that day, of all days, was he fated to have met this dark-haired, intriguing beauty; it never occurred to him, how in the world that he knew –but one thing was for sure: the moment Chelsea returned his smile with a quite fetching lopsided grin of her own, he was more than sold.

This girl right here was the one.

The Cruzes, it turned out, were their newest neighbors, and Darren could have sworn that Fate smiled down upon him the day he was born. Chelsea soon transferred to Stuart Academy where he himself was studying. And from that day on, the two became inseparable. Chelsea was a year younger than Darren, but took many advanced classes so they were practically classmates. Darren was pleased to find that Chelsea did not mind that he was a boy, and would rather play with him than the other girls in the neighborhood. They both liked books and found a common love for music. Darren would invite her every other afternoon after classes to sit in front of his Baldwin baby grand and he would play 'Heart and Soul' for as many times as Chelsea would ask him to. On alternate days, Darren would find himself sitting on the swings behind the Cruz' shed and listen to his new best friend play Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata on her own Stradivarius cello. Between them, they played about a dozen instruments, but Darren on his piano, and Chelsea on her cello would be each other's favorites.

Now while most childhood friends grew apart when they reach their teens, Darren and Chelsea's foray into middle school and junior high only brought then closer –a fact that Darren was ecstatic to add to his 'Proof that Chelsea Cruz is my Soulmate' List. They would meet other people and spend time with other friends, but there was no denying that they were each other's best friend, wingman and confidante all rolled into one. Their mothers would continue to meet up for coffee at each other's houses and tease them mercilessly.

Darren would just grin, ever the gentleman. The more spunky and expressive Chelsea would roll her eyes and grumble about embarrassing mothers before grabbing Darren's hand and pulling him away from the giggling women and into either of their bedrooms as the case may be –a habit that was a throwback from their younger years. Nobody deigned to point out how awkward the whole thing was, now that they were in their teens. Best friends hang out in each other's rooms all the time, and Chelsea and Darren would not be stopping that ritual any time soon.

The Baldwin and Stradivarius were now joined by Disney movies, Harry Potter and musical theater. Sometimes, a medley of songs from Phantom of the Opera could be heard from inside Chelsea's room. Sometimes, Harry Potter quotes and jokes were thrown about inside Darren's as Chelsea made suggestions on the Potter musical Darren insisted that they must write and perform eventually. Chelsea would be laughing at her best friend's impression of Severus Snape and would counter with an equally hilarious one of the Boy-Who-Lived herself.

Everything was so comfortable and routinely, and Darren just knew that this was how thing were supposed to be.

High school ushered in the typical rush of conflicting emotions. Darren had long known that Chelsea meant to him more than a best friend would –but did she even remotely feel the same way towards him? The curly-haired young man would occasionally take time to stand back and take a good look at his childhood 'sweetheart'.

Yep. He still felt the same way the first time he saw her in their living room some years ago, laughing. Surely, the onyx-eyed eight year old then had already grown up into this beautiful sixteen year-old young woman, but it was still her. Her hands still felt comfortable against his as he walked her to and fro classes. Her smile still managed to turn his insides into goo. Her eyes still sparkled whenever they met his own. Things have changes, but then, they haven't at all, it seemed.

But that brought him back to his original dilemma. How to proceed? The clichéd best friend vs. boy/girl friend confusion was now rearing its ugly head. Darren knew what he wanted, but could he really risk losing Chelsea? There was no other for him, that, he was certain. But would Chelsea think the same way? In the midst of his indecisiveness however, the answer to Darren's pressing problem presented itself in the most unlikely manner.

It was junior year. It was his turn to drive Chelsea home –they usually took turns with each other's cars. The sixteen year old was riding shotgun, still clad in her purple and white cheerleading uniform. So yeah, that must've been a development he did not foresee, but Chelsea was a cheerleader now –a captain, no less. It was something she did on top of editing the school paper and leading in Drama Club; Darren too, had his own fair share of involvement –he was an officer of the Student Government, he sang leads in Glee and acted as well in Drama Club –but he drew the line at cheer dancing.

Chelsea was awfully quiet on the ride home that day, not on to her usual 'guess what happened at practice' litany. Darren gave his best friend a worried glance.

"Something bothering you, Cece?" It was his moniker for her, a derivative of her initials. Chelsea called it dorky, but he knew that she secretly loved it. Chelsea met his gaze once, before looking out the car window.

"Travis –tried to kiss me."

Darren's heart stopped. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. He knew something like this was bound to happen eventually, but that did not help soothe the green-eyed monster threatening to wreck havoc inside him. He took a deep, steady breath to calm himself.

"Did he now?" His tone was neutral at best. Chelsea was beautiful, popular and smart –of course, someone would be interested in her.  _'Heck, only the criminally insane wouldn't be,'_  he reckoned. And Travis McIntyre was of course your typical average teenage guy –and sane. Darren suddenly had the deep desire to strangle St. Ignatius Preparatory's star quarterback.

"I punched him," came Chelsea's annoyed huff. Darren had to do a double-take. It was only then that he had noticed her extremely pissed-off expression.  _'Wait, Chelsea's upset about it?'_  Darren mused, his heart regaining its syncopated rhythm. Almost all of the female population in St. Ignatius had crushes on Travis –even some of the faculty. Darren decided to word his response carefully.

"Was there a need to?"

Chelsea gave him a brief 'are-you-kidding-me' look before rolling her eyes. "He's so full of himself –argh! The nerve of that jerk, thinking I'm one of those silly girls who hero-worships him! And besides, I don't like his fake blonde hair. Have you seen him? He's too pretty to be a guy. And I most certainly do not go around kissing just anybody –especially if he's not my boyfriend."

' _Boyfriend?'_  The thought crossed Darren's mind and latched onto it like barnacle on mussels. "Boyfriend?" He mused out loud before he could stop himself. "You –don't exactly have one of those now, do you?" He knew he sounded a bit worried. Chelsea stared at him for a full minute before sighing rather loudly.

"Stupid Gryffindor." It was a running joke between them. Darren was the noble Gryffindor; Chelsea was the shrewd Slytherin. "Stop the car, Criss."

"What?" Darren frowned. "Why? What did I do?"

"Just stop the car –"

"Chelsea –"

"STOP –the goddamned car –or God help me, Darren Everett Criss –I will AK your ass into oblivion!"

Chelsea rarely cursed. It was even rarer that her voice rose, especially when talking to the young man she considered her very best friend. So when Darren heard her talk to him that way, he knew she meant business. He stepped on the brakes so hard, he was sure that it was now permanently stuck that way. His white Prius lurched forward violently in response, and had he not been wearing his seatbelt, his face would have been splattered against the windshield. He sighed as he turned to face Chelsea. "There! Now, will you tell me what the hell is wrong –"

The rest of his words were snatched however, as he found his lips unable to form them. The reason for that was because said lips were otherwise preoccupied with another set, hovering and sliding against them.

Chelsea was kissing him. And damn, he'd endure her infamous outbursts any given day if he could get to kiss her cherry lips like this whenever. How many times had he imagined this moment again? Honestly, he'd lost count. But one thing's for certain, his fantasies did not come close to reality. Chelsea's lips were like liquid fire –smooth and fluid. Darren could hardly care that she did not seem to know what she was doing, because really he didn't either, and that made his heart leap for joy because clearly, they were each other's first kiss –a first kiss that to Darren's opinion, was better suited to be happening under a starlit sky and not on the car ride home. But he hardly had the time to protest though, as Chelsea was soon pulling away from him not long after, her own lips swollen, her cheeks flushed, her eyes twinkling madly. Darren could only stare at this vision of his best friend –no, soulmate, definitely soulmate –in awe.

"What –just what –what –" Really, what else could he say? To his utter astonishment, Chelsea merely laughed.

"Take me home, will you? And – starting today – you can't hang out in my room anymore or my Dad will let you meet his buddy, Mr. Shotgun."

Darren froze for a second before a familiar feeling of warmth seeped into his insides. With a smile wider than his face, he started the engine of his car and drove the rest of the way to their neighborhood. Now he knew how it felt to be floating among clouds, reckoned. He eventually got acquainted with Mr. Cruz' shotgun, but thankfully, on friendly terms, and he never saw Chelsea's room again after that. And the only times that the two of them were allowed to stay out after curfew (which was a democratic 11 p.m. in both households) was when he took her to junior prom, and then again the following year to senior prom where Darren, to his utter surprise, made Prom King. His girlfriend –wow, it was so nice to say that –laughed her ass off as he tried (yes, tried) to dance with the appointed Queen –a really tall redhead who was part of the school's Judo Team. The first dance was extremely awkward, so Darren almost cried in relief when the music changed and they could already switch partners. Chelsea was beside him right away to the rescue, amusement clear in her beautiful, sparkling eyes. The lights dimmed, but the shimmery silver-periwinkle material of her dress just seemed to illuminate her face and damn, he just couldn't take his eyes off of her. There were random spots of glitter on her face that made Chelsea look very much like a fairy princess –no crown needed. Darren leaned closer and teasingly called her 'Tinkerbelle.' Chelsea rolled her eyes in response but laughingly muttered.

"Now I know how Peter Pan would look like in a white tuxedo."

And that, was another moment that went into Darren's rapidly growing list of 'proof'. There were many others to come; like when he got a full scholarship to the University of Michigan for a Musical Theater degree and Chelsea gave up her UCLA slot without batting an eyelash to go with him; Or when he had only had to ask her once to move in with him on her 19th birthday and the very next day, they were repainting the walls of Darren's Detroit apartment with the first color they had agreed on, which was sunny yellow; Or when Darren had spent a semester in Italy studying Italian Theater and Chelsea surprised him one night by showing up in his dorm to help him revise for his finals the following day; Or when they both decided to get a puppy one summer and agreed to name him 'Snuffles;' Or how on Darren's 22nd birthday after almost five years of being together and a few months shy of his graduation, Chelsea gifted him with a trip to the Philippines, knowing how much he had wanted to go visit his relatives there; Or when during that trip, which coincided with their 4th Valentines Day as a couple, Darren took Chelsea to a breath-taking spot near a private strip of a beach…

It was almost sunset, and the horizon was awashed in lovely shades of pinks, purples and oranges. The two of them held hands as they walked across the pristine white sands, barefoot, the gentle sea breeze blowing through Chelsea's loose waves and the skirt of her tropical print dress. Darren knew that he just had to stop and commit that image of her in his mind's eye. The rapidly darkening sky was perfectly reflected in Chelsea's obsidian orbs, the fathomless pools, drawing him in. And when she turned to face him with a serene look on her sun-kissed face, he knew that that was the moment. He briefly let go of her hand and took a deep breath before reaching into the pocket of his khaki board shorts.

The sans was coarse against his left knee, but Darren couldn't care any less, not when he was trying to remember to breathe and not get lost in those surprised-looking eyes boring holes into his own. His hands shook wildly as he reached for hers.

"Chelsea,"

The moment they slipped into that position, with him kneeling before the love of his life, and her looking down at him with the fondest expression in her eyes, Darren realized that forgetting his prepared speech –one he had begun drafting since he was eleven –was probably for the best.

"I love you so much. Will you marry me?"

The ring was a thin platinum band with a trio of diamonds crowning it. The larger one in the middle was blush-colored, flanked by two smaller round ones in classic white. The way it caught the sun's rays was amazing, but nothing could ever compare to the way Chelsea's face lit up at Darren's question. And nothing could ever be as amazing in the young man's opinion, than Chelsea's voice when she gasped her answer out.

"Yes –yes, I'll marry you!"

With tears in her eyes, Chelsea had said yes, and Darren wasted no time in slipping the ring on her finger and pulling his now- fiancé –okay, that sounded way, way better than girlfriend –into a kiss. They remained wrapped in each other's arms that way, long after the sun had set and stars began dotting the clear night sky.

And that, was the one and only proof that Darren needed to tell himself that Chelsea was indeed his one and only…

But it seemed that Fate had other plans.

Three days after their engagement, Darren's agent, Nick, called from San Francisco; he was to audition for an experimental TV show set to air on FOX soon. Darren never thought he'd give commercial, Hollywood acting a try –because really, he was a musician first, and a thespian, a close second. But Nick thought he'd be perfect for the new show since it marries his love for music, the format of it being something along the likes of High School Musical. Darren did not really want to cut their trip short, but Chelsea wouldn't near any of it even if she had to stay behind for a few more days to see to a sick aunt.

"You HAVE to go! Come on, D, this is TV! I'd get to see my gorgeous fiancé on TV! Please, you have to go to that audition!" Chelsea quipped, practically bouncing in excitement after Darren told her the news. The young man chuckled at her naiveté.

"I'm not even sure if I'd get in, Cece."

"Of course you'd get in!" Chelsea rolled her eyes. "They would not have asked for you to try out specifically if they didn't think you were right for it. You have to have a little more faith in yourself, Dare –you're Darren Freaking Criss!"

Darren chuckled at his girlfriend and gave her a quick peck on the lips. "You have too much confidence in my abilities, Miss Cruz." Chelsea pulled him closer and returned the kiss. "Because I know you well. If there is anyone in this world who knows what you're capable of, who better than your soulmate, right?"

An inexplicable rush of emotions flooded Darren's being as her stared into those sincere eyes. "Chels, if I get the part, we'll get married before my first taping day, deal?"

"You mean, WHEN you get the part." Chelsea told him matter-of-factly. "You sure drive a hard bargain, Mr. Criss."

"I know," Darren winked. "So. What say you, soon-to-be Mrs. Criss?"

"I say, you'd better get on that plane and get that part, Babe."

Darren flew to L.A. the very next day and met with a man named Ryan Murphy, one of the show's producers. He was asked to read lines and sing in front of a panel of four that included Mr. Murphy. He performed his own arrangement of 'Reflection' from Mulan, which he did on the piano. To his surprise, he was asked to do an encore. Darren decided on playing an original composition, 'Circles' –a song which he co-wrote with Chelsea during their freshman year at UMich. He could still remember that one lazy afternoon outside their favorite on-campus coffee hang out as Chelsea, who claimed to be hit by a sudden inspiration, scribbled the lyrics furiously on a tissue and eventually shoved it across the table towards him once she was done. Darren for his part, then grabbed his guitar and began tinkering with it. Not an hour later, the song was completed.

" **Hey Alex, what's going on there?**

**How is your view of Times Square?**

**Is it grey and cloudy, just like mine?**

**Even if it's mid-July?**

**Hey Alex, what's on your mind?**

**Is it of the state of New York kind?**

**Does it move around with changing tides?**

**Going circles like a carousel ride?**

**How I wish that I knew how**

**To get through to you somehow**

**But we're oceans apart, miles away**

**To you, I wish, there was a highway**

**But I'm going in circles on and on**

**To back dirt alleys, around and around**

**One day I hope, I'll get to you**

**I know one day, I'll get to find you…"**

Ryan Murphy smiled at him when he had finished the expectant, heartfelt song on the guitar, this time. The man then proceeded to tell him that the role of Jesse St. James was his and that they start filming in 90 days. Darren resisted the urge to break out into his happy dance right then and there, and settled for high-fiving his agent. He let Nick deal with the boring legalities. Darren pulled out his phone and made that very important phone call.

"Dare? What –seriously. It's like 4 a.m. here –"

"Pick out your white dress –I got the part! We start in 90 days, so –"

"I told you, did I not? I'm so happy for you, Babe! Oh god, my fiancé's going to be on TV! Wait –I have to fly out and see you –I'll catch the soonest one out! I'll be there to celebrate with you –hold on, let me tell my cousins –"

Chelsea did end up booking the earliest flight out of Manila to join Darren in LA where he was staying for the mean time. However, she never got to celebrate with him in person for making it to the show.

Twenty-four hours before Darren was due to fetch Chelsea from the airport, he received a phone call. He smiled at his phone's glowing screen when he heard his 'Heart and Soul' ringtone play. He took the call.

"Can't wait to see me, Chelsea?"

"Hardly," Darren could almost see her roll her eyes in that adorable fashion. "I called to let you know that I'll be driving when I arrive. My cousin Monica asked me to meet her for coffee as soon as I land –you know, a little girl-bonding thing? I'll see you in the apartment, 'kay?"

"Sure thing, Babe." Darren said. "What is a few extra hours of not seeing you? We have forever." Chelsea chuckled. "Oh you, just do me a favor and get ice cream for later? I may not have time to cook dinner when I get there."

"Chinese or Indian?" Darren asked. Chelsea laughed.

"Pizza. Extra cheese."

"Ah, I knew there was a reason I was marrying you."

"Yeah, yeah," Chelsea huffed jokingly. "You're marrying me because of my insane love for cheeses, the very biggest piece of it all is you. Geez, I love you too, Darren Criss."

"Right back at you, Cece." Darren chuckled. "You sure you don't want me to meet you at the airport? I can be a good fiancé and carry shopping bags or something –"

"TV stars don't do part-time as chauffeurs, love." Chelsea admonished him. "You'll soon be a household name, a legend –start acting like one."

"Yes ma'am." Darren answered dutifully. "But are you –"

"Monica's bringing me, my car from Mom and Dad's. Don't worry, I'll be there with you before you know it."

Darren sighed into the line. "I can't wait to see you –be careful, okay? Love you."

"Will do, Babe. Love you too. Always." And the call ended on that note. The following day, Darren was currently at the convenience store, two blocks away from the apartment getting butterscotch ice cream when his phone rang again. Chelsea was running late by a couple of hours. Outside, the rain that had began a few hours ago was still horribly unrelenting –In fact, it seemed that it was getting even worse. He hoped that Chelsea did not decide to drive through the inclement weather and waited it out somewhere safe instead. When does it ever rain like this in perpetually sunny California anyway? Balancing the tub of ice cream on one hand, Darren looked at his phone screen –he did not recognize the local number but answered the call right away. "Hello?"

"Darren –Darren Criss?" A shaky female voice on the other end asked.

"Uh, yeah. And this is –"

"Monica," the voice gasped. "I –I'm Chelsea's cousin –"

"Oh, okay. Um, what's wrong? You sound –agitated." Darren observed. "Wait, is she there with you? Is she o her way here? Please tell her to wait it out. This rain is insane and I –"

"N-No," Monica responded, her voice noticeably broken. "G-God –how do I say this? I I don't know how, but –" she hesitated. Darren's frown grew deeper.

"What happened? Where's Chelsea? Where is she?"

The other end of the line went completely silent, before an unmistakable sob came through. "Oh Darren…" Monica whispered as she took a deep breath. "About –about an hour after Chelsea –she dropped me off at her Mom's—There –there had been an –an a-accident."

Darren felt like he had just been sucker-punched deep within his guts. "What –what did you say?" The grip on his phone tightened as the ice cream tub on the other hand fell to the polished floor of the convenience store.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" Monica was evidently fighting back tears now. "She insisted on –she insisted on driving –to get to you! I told her to wait for the rain to stop but –Oh, God…" Monica was full on crying by then. "I should've –should've stopped her –oh God –They –the hospital –whoever –911 had just called her parents and they told me – I don't know how –why –but they said –they said –she drove off -off a cliff. The roads were slippery and she –Oh Darren, she drove off a cliff! I'm sorry –they said, Chelsea's gone …"

Darren's phone dropped on the floor, joining the puddle of melted ice cream.

"When does it ever rain in California? He remembered asking out loud once. Chelsea was seated beside him in her black Navigator, driving them home from school one moderately rainy afternoon.

"It's California, not the moon, silly. It's bound to rain sometime."

But if only they lived on the moon, Chelsea would still be alive.

It was now 40 days later after that ill-fated day and Darren had long stopped believing in Fate. He was supposed to be back in L.A. for a promotional campaign for his supposedly new show, Glee. Instead, he was flying back to Manila to meet with Chelsea's parents. There was an old folk lore in the Philippines where they believed that the soul of the dead walks the earth one last time, 40 days after their death, before finally moving on. It was Filipino tradition to hold a vigil at, or near the gravesite to help the wandering soul in crossing over. Chelsea's parents decided to have their daughter buried in their home country. Darren did not even have the heart to argue when Joan Cruz told him of their plan. He nodded dutifully and flew back to Manila with them 9 days after the accident to bury his fiancé. And now, 40 days later, he was back again.

Nick was not happy. It was either Darren attends the promo campaign or he forfeits the role. Darren was to learn later on that the role was down-sized and given to Jon Groff of Spring-Awakening fame.

He will be with Chelsea, one last time, and no acting role is worth more that. Nothing is worth more than Chelsea. Fate had most definitely fucked up big time, but even Death does not change the fact that she was forever his one and only.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

-END OF PROLOGUE-

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**End A/N** _ **:**_ So, what do you think? Up Next:  **Chapter 1:Reset –**  our story proper begins and we get to see the Debut of Chris in our tale. Here's a sneak peak:

**010101010101010101010101010101**

(AN EXCERPT FROM  **CHAPTER ONE: RESET** )

"I was going to suggest that you meet him one of these days in an informal setting," Ryan told him with a small smile. "He'd be one of the actors you'd be working with most this season and it will really help a lot if you manage to build an off-set rapport with him. It won't be an ideal setting, but I guess a hospital visit couldn't hurt. Do you have anywhere else to go today?"

Darren shook his head. He had planned on going to Joey's to tell him of the good news, but that could wait. Something in him just knew that seeing his injured co-actor was more important. Ryan motioned for him to come along.

"Well, come then, Blaine. Let's introduce you to Kurt."

**010101010101010101010101010101**


	2. Reset

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Story proper begins now. As a reminder this is RPF AU, meaning, facts have been twisted to suit my needs. Case in point is Joey Richter's birthday. In real life he is younger than Darren, being born July 31 1989. In my verse he is in fact, older by a couple of years. The song mentioned in this chapter is 'Air' –another original I composed just a few months back. Pardon my indulgence of using my own work instead of more popular songs. I'd rather not get sued or banned from this site. And it also works better for the storyline, so… Anyway, thanks for those who have already added this to their alerts and left reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy. AND YES, THIS IS CRISSCOLFER. Please be patient. It begins soon enough. –C.
> 
> P.S. I apologize for the delay in updates. If you were following me in social media, you'd know that there is good cause for that. I had been (and still am) busy with DCST (PH) duties in line with Darren's upcoming birthday. Let it just be said that video editing is a nightmare… when you don't have material to edit.

**Chapter One: Reset**

" _Life isn't all or nothing; that is why there are second chances."_

_-:-_

**(April 2010 –Los Angeles, California)**

Los Angeles was a far cry from Clovis, California. For one, in L.A., you can go on for years without knowing the name of the man living across the street; in Clovis, you would know what Mrs. Johansson was making for dinner every night.

Another welcome difference was that in L.A., there were no nosy, uptight and holier-than-thou Mrs. Johanssons that would glare at Chris like he was the plague personified, just because he was different. And Chris Colfer was the walking poster boy for different. Seriously, if Merriam-Webster included an illustration of the word, it would have his chestnut-haired, azure-eyed smiling face next to it. After years of dealing with the bullying, the slew of homophobic slurs thrown against him and the heat his own family took from it, one would think that he would've already been numb or at the very least indifferent to it. But in reality, he had been counting the days that he could be free of the chains holding him back. Deep inside, no matter how much he denied it, it hurt to be different in such a typical town like Clovis.

So yes, forward, liberated and fast-paced Los Angeles was indeed a very welcome change –where diversity was lauded and not frowned-upon, where being different is something special and not a curse. Chris could not really believe his luck. He was out of stuffy, rigid and hurtful Clovis and into the city of his dreams, living the life he wanted.

Thanks Glee. Thanks Ryan 'Fairy Godfather' Murphy.

When the man had smiled at him during his audition a little over a year ago and told him he did great but they would need to get back to him and his dad. Chris knew not to expect much, if any, at all. He had before had his fair share of rejection because he was too 'soft' for the roles. Honestly, who would cast an effeminate gay teen as a straight guy no matter how dorky the role was? Even the character's name was dorky (seriously, Artie Abrams?) But Chris knew that acting (next to writing) was his passion. He had more than once thought of 'reigning in the gay' but really, what good would that do? He read his lines in front of Mr. Murphy and three other people including Robert Ulrich, the nice casting agent who submitted his name in despite not fitting any of the profiles for the roles. He also sang his rendition of 'Our Song' in his own unique key and hoped that the rejection would not be that painful this time.

So when the call came, he braced himself for it. But it wasn't what he had expected at all.

Yes, it was Ryan Murphy calling. And no, sadly, the part he was auditioning for went to another actor. But –there was that BIG but –he was offering Chris his own role: gay, sassy, well-dressed Kurt Hummel. Chris' life had never been the same again. The first season of Glee tuned into a world-wide hit and had developed a cult following. It changed the landscape of TV and the US in general –especially for outcasts and underdogs. 'Kurt Hummel' became a battle cry for bullied and discriminated gay teens across all 50 states and the 'Chris Colfer' became a household name. Ryan Murphy ecstatically told the cast at a post-season victory party the good news: they were pushing through with season 2.

Although the man had left the said party early to attend to some business that could not be delayed, Ryan had made sure that everyone would be having fun that night. Champagne was overflowing and conversations went on smoothly as the band played enthusiastically in the background.

Chris was having fun just watching the proceedings in his own quiet corner. Contrary to the image he projected as his onscreen character, he wasn't really the sociable type. He'd much rather stay home and curl up with a good book or a movie. He was currently ,absently debating in his mind whether to slip out of the party unnoticed or stick it out for a bit, when his reel life best friend Amber Riley came up to him holding two glasses of bubbly. Chris stared at the flute she was now offering him and cocked an eyebrow questioningly. The one who played 'Mercedes' smiled.

" I know you're underage, but a sip wouldn't hurt. And you haven't really celebrated anything without tasting champagne."

Chris shrugged and took a sip. Surprisingly to him, the taste was not that offensive. Amber giggled at his reaction.

"I come bearing gossip too."

"Oh, do spill," Chris took another sip. He found himself beginning to enjoy the bitter fruity tang on his taste buds and the mild buzz it gave him.

"Kurt is getting s potential boy friend next season," Amber whispered conspiratorially behind a cupped hand. "Ned –he's one of the staff writers –he said Ryan spoke to Robert about casting a dapper prep school boy."

"Prep school?" Chris looked at her inquiringly, chugging the remains of his glass down. "Not my type." The buzz was becoming more and more pronounced as the minutes went on. He eyed Amber's untouched champagne flute. She shrugged and handed it to the young man who emptied it promptly. The chocolate-skinned woman grinned.

"I know you'd rather date the 'artsy-geeky' fun type. But apparently clean-cut and suave is Kurt Hummel's taste in men." She leaned in closer and I heard names as well."

"Tell me."

"Grant Gustin's been asked to audition. Also Dean Geyer, but I think they were having issues with his accent. Also, Chord Overstreet –never heard of him, and oh, that one guy from the musical you love to watch on You Tube… what was it? Harry Potter Musical?"

Chris' ears perked up. "Which one? The one who played Harry? Are they –"

"Naw," Amber frowned thoughtfully. "Although that one's really cute." She smiled. "That one's definitely YOUR type, huh?"

"What – no!" Chris flushed, although it was hard to tell whether it was from the alcohol now travelling in his system or from embarrassment. "I just like how the guy's mind works. And you can't say anything bad about his sense of humor –"

"And his hair. Yeah, yeah," Amber waved him off. "I will no longer debate with you on the appropriateness of having a crush on a straight guy. But no, it's not that dude. It's the one who played his side-kick –"

"Joey Richter? They are asking him to audition?" Chris mused. "Hmm, well, Ryan knows what he's doing I guess. And it really doesn't matter. It's not as if they were auditioning for ME. It's for the show. So, all I'm saying is, I mean I really don't have to like them –not LIKE in that sense, but of course I have to like them to be able to work with them. But you know –"

"You're officially drunk." Amber declared. "You're rambling, Colfer."

"I'm not!" Chris snapped, his head starting to pound. Honestly, who got drunk after two glasses of champagne? Well, who was he to point fingers. Kurt Hummel and alcohol don't mix, might as well Chris Colfer and champagne didn't as well, right? "I'm fine, Amber. I'm just not used to it. Anyway, I'm tired. I should head out."

Amber looked on in concern. She bit her lip. "Your Dad picking you up?"

"He's sick. I'm driving –"

"Oh boo, you shouldn't," the young woman held his arm. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have given you alcohol then –"

Chris could feel the warmth and numb pain spread to his head now. He sighed deeply, trying to present a composed front to his friend. "I'll be fine, babe, really." He somehow managed to walk a straight line. "See? I'm just really tired. And besides, I live five minutes away. You could probably sing a medley of all the Journey songs we did on the show and I'd be home even before you get to 'Don't Stop Believing'."

Had Amber Riley sang the said medley, she would have done it thrice over and Chris would still be not home yet. The warmth and dull pain quickly graduated to a full-blown headache by the time Chris sat behind the wheel of his car. It was pounding by the time he backed out of the dimly-lit parking lot. Then, it became too much all of a sudden. Chris would eventually learn of his extreme allergic reaction to alcohol. But in the next five minutes after he had walked out of that Glee cast party to head home, he wouldn't know that. He'd buckle himself in his red Mazda and try to navigate that one final blind curve before he reached his suburb neighborhood. As he made that one last turn, his vision would rapidly cloud as his head began to feel like it was being split open. He wouldn't see the oncoming station wagon, nor would he see the lamp post he was heading towards as he made the last minute decision to swerve. An angry screech of tires against cement would be all that he hears before impact. Chris Colfer's world would turn completely black not long after.

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010101**

The past year went by in a blur for Darren. He had spent most of his time busying himself with singing, writing songs, writing plays, acting in those plays with his friends at Starkid. A Very Potter Musical and its sequel, aptly titled A Very Potter sequel had just reached cult classic status on YouTube. He and Joey and Lauren have even been asked to speak in the Comic Convention, Fall of 2009 in their Pigfarts ensembles. He also began putting in the final touches on his EP, Human, with his elder brother Chuck's help. In between gigs at restaurants, theme parks and performance at state fairs, he was recording original music.

But no matter what it was that he did, one thing remained constant. Darren made sure that his mind was always busy –not an idle moment available to be filled with non-productive thoughts. He was always on-the-go, always performing, always moving about –always trying to save the world, when in reality, it was himself who needed saving the most.

To the casual observer, it seemed that he was a man on a mission. But those who truly know him, know better, know that it was all a façade –a poorly orchestrated coping mechanism for a profound loss. Because no matter how each performance is applauded, no matter how every song is played to perfection, the truth bled through Darren's golden hazel eyes.

He is empty, lost and forsaken.

He is grieving –behind the forced jokes and faked smiles, Darren Criss is hurting, very much hurting still. And it seemed like it would be that way for long. His friends, at first, respected this need for breathing space, but soon enough the worry for their curly-haired friend overcame their desire to appease him. They all tried to make him talk, asked him to take a break and hang out (with Mia being the most annoyingly vocal). But Darren would just habitually turn them down with a well-rehearsed smile and a ready reason, whether he was busy perfecting a song, or doing his laundry, or reading, or down with Spattergoit. For a short while, they bought it (not the Spattergoit ,though). But soon enough, it stopped working.

"Dare, come on, it's my birthday –you can't pass this time!" his good friend Joey frantically rapped on his apartment door. Darren stood up from in front of his keyboard with a heavy sigh and opened the door.

"Happy Birthday, Joey. I wish you would get laid tonight –and I'm pretty sure you will, but I really need to finish this song. I did send you my gift with Brent, so you can blame him if you don't get it, okay? Again, Happy Birthday, Good –" Darren moved to close his door after his mechanical greeting, but Joey was quicker, he stopped the action with a well-placed foot and a scowl.

"Seriously, Criss. What is going on with you –with –with this?" Joey forcefully pushed the door, in the process of which, knocking the shorter man a couple of steps backward. "You've been like this for a year already, a fucking year, man! When are you going to snap out of it? Stop doing this to yourself, man. I know you're grieving, but seriously, you're hurting yourself even more, and as your friend, I can't allow this!" Joey's voice rose, his displeasure evident on his face. Darren took one look at his friend and sighed.

"Joey, I'm working –"

"That is all you do!" Joey snapped. Then letting out a deep breath, his countenance softened. "If –if Chelsea was here, she'd totally kick my ass for letting you wither away like this."

Darren scoffed. "I'm not withering away, Joey." The curly haired man then felt his chest constricting suddenly. "And Chelsea –she would not resort to physical violence. Sure, she'd lash out, but –only." He ran his fingers through his locks in an unhelpful attempt to tame it. Joey eyed his friend warily; it was a classic Darren Criss move for when the man was extremely uncomfortable. Joey decided to tread carefully.

"Dare, I know it's been –hard –"

"We were supposed to be forever, Joey." Darren sighed, his eyes taking a faraway look. "How –just how do I get past that? I know you laugh at me for believing in fairy tales and epic romances, but I had that Joey! At one point in time, Disney was real to me –and then, all of a sudden –" he buried his face in his hands as he took a spot on a worn-out sofa. "Sorry –I –I didn't mean to unload –on your birthday too. You know what? You're right. This is pathetic. I'm pathetic. My whole life is pathetic. Forever is overrated –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hey," Joey interrupted him with a worried look on his face. He sat down next to Darren. It was rare that he saw his friend pour out his emotions especially after Chelsea had died in that freak accident a little over a year ago. Whenever he saw Darren, his friend would always smile and joke no matter how pretentious it came off as. In fact, he could only count in the fingers of one hand the times the man had been serious about anything lately –with the exception of when he was writing his music of course, but then again, Darren would always be alone anyway when he was tinkering with his piano and guitar.

The world saw Darren Criss, consummate performer, and it cannot be any farther away from the real state of his mind and heart. He still deeply mourned the loss of the only woman he had loved since childhood.

Joey drew closer and in what he had hoped was a comforting manner, gave his friend a one-armed hug. "Each to his own, man. And for the record, I wasn't making fun of your Disney fixation. You just amuse me, that's different. It's rare during this day and age. And it's quite alright. I'd rather have you talking to me like this than receive all the gifts in the world for my birthday. Besides, when you're in one of your moods, I tend to fall back into talking to Snuffles." Joey grinned a little at the mention of Darren's dog. "Your extremely overweight lab raided my fridge the other day. You owe a week's worth of groceries."

Darren looked properly apologetic. "Sorry, I'll –you can bring him back here –I just –I should probably look for a place where pets are allowed."

"Hey, no. The big guy's already grown on me, "quipped Joey. "I was kidding. I know you've been moving about more often. Snuffles deserves a more stable home. And besides, my little sister adores him."

"I'm sorry I haven't been a good friend lately," said Darren dejectedly, glancing around the room as he spoke. "Twelve years. You just don't forget that in twelve months. I just –I don't know what to do, what to feel. I'm lost, man. I have no clue. I –It's just everything's a mess. We had these plans and then –all of a sudden –"

"Dude, you're still standing, moving, breathing despite everything that's happened. That's got to amount to something, right?" Joey chided. "I won't pretend to fully understand how it goes for you, because I don't want to be in your position, let alone imagine your pain. Chelsea is special, we all know that. I mean, she has to be. She clicked with you, fit your every grove, that kind of thing." The taller man sighed. "But –look, it may be presumptuous of me to say this –and I'm not really good with emotions and stuff, but I'll try. You had a life before. But things –they had to change. Now, you may not like it, but the fact remains that it did. And there's no turning back. I'm not saying that you should move on like nothing happened, because like I said, each to his own. We all cope differently. So don't force yourself to do something you don't feel like doing. But the fact is, despite all that, you are still –surviving, so that's got to count, okay? I'm not saying you should forget everything altogether, but there is a day after forever… Do you get what I mean?"

Darren was completely still for a while. Joey sighed. "I'm not making any sense now, am I? Maybe I should call Mia –"

"No, you're –you're making perfect sense." Darren breathed. "It's what I've been trying to do. I'm trying to find the perfect balance between remembering and forgetting, but it seems that I'm far from even making an inch of progress."

"Life isn't all or nothing, Darren Criss. That's why they invented erasers." Joey declared matter-of-factly.

"I'm pretty sure that quote was, "Life isn't all or nothing, that is why there are second chances," Joey." The beginnings of a smile, a real amused one, was forming on Darren's lips. Joey took the bait.

"My version is more concrete."

Darren laughed. "Of course it is." The amber-eyed man then took a deep breath. "Well, it is YOUR birthday. I suppose I can finish this song I'm currently working on, on a much less spectacular day."

"Which one is it again?" Joey inquired. He was liking the direction their conversation was now going, but he did not want to rush or force Darren into anything. Baby steps.

"Air." Darren sang the parts he had already put down on the music sheet:

" **Do you understand**

**You are all I see**

**When I close my eyes**

**Nothing else exists**

**But you…**

**I come alive**

**Do you understand**

**You're the missing piece**

**To this twisted puzzle**

**Haunting my dreams**

**Yes you…**

**Every night**

**Do you understand**

**You make me complete**

**When all hope's in vain**

**You're my ray of light**

**Breathing**

**Me… to life…**

**You're air, you're air**

**You're water, you're light, you're rain**

**You're air, you're air**

**You're fire, you're kindle, you're flame…"**

Darren's voice trailed as the last notes of the chorus that he had come up with ended. Joey looked pensive.

"Sounds amazing. Not your usual upbeat kind of thing, but it sounds really good as it is."

"Chelsea wrote it for me," admitted Darren. "The lyrics, I mean. It was to be our –our first dance as a married couple." The choke was there, but barely. Still, Joey did not miss it. He smiled at his friend.

"She's really something."

"She's my muse. She still is." Darren glanced at the music sheet he had by his piano briefly before shaking his head. With a smile of his own, he turned back to his friend. "So, where to, birthday boy? I think you owe me a piece of cake." He then grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door. "Come on, you only turn a quarter of a century once!"

"The way you say it makes me feel old." Joey followed Darren towards the door before the latter could change his mind.

"You are old," Darren pointed out as both men slipped out into the frigid night air of L.A. Joey sighed dejectedly.

"That's what they told me when I had auditioned for Glee –well, not in those exact words, but that's the gist of it all. I look much too old to be cast as a high school prep boy. They liked my singing though. Think I could land a guest spot?"

"Wait, Glee?" Darren raised a triangular eyebrow as he followed Joey to his car. Not many people knew of his almost-inclusion in the hit TV show –not that he had time to share the news, nor did it matter anymore eventually. "You auditioned?"

"Jessica made me," said Joey as h slid into the driver's seat of his Mustang and making a reference to his agent. "Some new recurring character. She said it was a good opportunity…" He threw a sideway glance at Darren who was currently buckling up. Joey's face lit up, as if hit by a sudden inspiration. "Hey, maybe YOU should try out, Dare. You look juvenile enough! A little caveman-ish right now, but like, a little cave dude! We can chop off that fro –"

"What? Wait. Slow down. I don't think TV is it for me, Joey." Darren looked mortified.  _'Not to mention, I'm probably already banned from Glee after I walked away the last time,'_ he thought ruefully. But aside from that, he believed his own words. There had been a brief 5 episode story arc affair with Eastwick where he played Josh Burton –it was something he had jumped on at a whim, when he was still reeling in from his recent loss –it didn't quite stick. Then there was that guest stint in Cold Case, but Darren and dead bodies really did not mix well. So yes, he can safely say that his experience in TV wasn't really a pleasant nor promising one.

"No, really!" Joey insisted as he reversed out of parking and into the streets. "I can hook you up with Jess. Hey, if it can't be me, it has to be you!"

"Joey, I don't think that's a good –"

"I'll call Jess for you. Maybe this is just what you need, you know, a change of pace? Come on, what have you got to lose? Darren Criss, you're going to be a TV star!"

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010101**

Ryan Murphy looked up from the stack of papers he was inspecting when Darren walked into the room. It was three days after Joey's birthday and two after Jessica Brightman agreed to represent him. He had a weird flash of déjà vu as he walked into that audition room. He could not just believe his ears when Jess told him that Ryan Murphy had indeed wanted to see him.

"Hi, I'm Darren –Darren Criss," he mumbled as he took front and center of the rather Spartan room. He took a look around as he gently set his guitar down next to a stool in the middle of the space –the walls were done in a whisper of gray, with the one behind Darren completely covered in floor-to-ceiling mirrors. Unlike last time, Ryan was alone in the audition panel. The man's face was blank when he met Darren's gaze, which made the latter's heart begin to pound like crazy. He resolved to shaking his head inwardly and closing his eyes briefly to calm his nerves. Darren prepared for his audition piece by taking his perch on the stool and slipping on the strap of his guitar.

"Um, well, I'll be singing 'Go the Distance' from the movie –"

"Wait." Ryan held his hand up, which caused Darren to freeze. Ryan leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms against his chest. The producer stayed in that position for what seemed like hours, not once looking elsewhere but at Darren. The young man felt the scrutinizing gaze drill holes right through him, as if the older man was contemplating the justification of his very existence in the room. The silence was deafening to Darren but to his relief, Ryan Murphy finally broke it.

"You already know what we think about you," the man said softly, his features shifting slightly. "The memory of your stirring rendition of reflection and that original song still brings chills to my spine. And from what I saw in My Space and YouTube, you haven't changed one bit –if so, you only got better in time. There is a marked difference. Somehow, you are more soulful as a performer in recent times than you were just a little over a year ago. You really are something else, Darren Criss."

"Um, thank you sir." Darren scratched the back of his neck with a look of mild embarrassment on his face. "I'm surprised you remembered me, let alone –Quite frankly, Mr. Murphy. I'm surprised that you'd even let me come again for an audition after what had happened the last time."

Ryan Muprhy's lips finally curved into a smile after that. "Do you not believe in second chances? I like to think that you do, seeing as you did come here today."

"I guess I do, sir." Darren honestly did not know what else to say. He had the feeling that this right here was already more than an audition. He fidgeted with a stray thread on the cuff of his red shirt.

"How do you feel about homosexuality, Darren?"

Darren dropped the cuff of his button-down that he was playing with and met the Glee producer's eyes. "It should not matter, Mr. Murphy. Sexuality is just a label. And love is just too big, too grand of an emotion to be contained in a single label. It should not concern itself with whether or not someone is gay, straight, purple or dinosaur."

"Well said," Ryan nodded, steepling his fingers, then tapping his chin thoughtfully. "Have you ever been in love?"

"That's a rather personal question, Darren pointed out, setting his guitar down once more and getting off the stool. He suddenly felt the need to be up on his feet. Ryan gave him a calculating look. Darren noticed this and sighed. He turned his back on the Glee producer.

"She was my soulmate."

"Was?" Ryan raised an eyebrow, one that Darren would not have seen had he not spun around to face the older man's inquiring tone. Darren's honey golden eyes were bright. He could feel tears forming in them, but he held himself together. H e wasn't going to cry in front of Ryan Murphy. He gripped the strap of his guitar until his knuckles were white and pretended to inspect it.

"She –died, a little over a year ago."

"I'm sorry."

"She –was the reason I had to leave," Darren continued on before shaking his head and meeting Ryan's eyes again. "Look, Mr. Murphy. I –I really don't want to be rude, but if you're not going to let me audition for you, then –"

"Who says this isn't part of your audition?" Ryan admonished softly. "And I apologize for the probing questions, but I just had to figure out how your inner psyche works. My characters aren't cardboard cut-outs, they're real people, Darren. And for them to come to life, the actors playing them have to be in the right headspace."

Darren gave Ryan his patented confused expression. "I'm not sure I follow, sir."

"First of all, call me Ryan. And second of all," the Glee creator stood up from his seat. "You've just earned yourself the part."

"Oh, okay Ryan –wait, what?" Darren's eyes widened almost comically. "But –but I haven't even sang –or –or read lines! Wait, are you serious –"

"Positive," Ryan laughed at the flustered young man. "I told you, your audition last year still stands. Although that was for a different character, our brief conversation today was enough to convince me that you'd be perfect for the new one we plan on introducing this season. However," he approached a still-shocked Darren with a critical eye. "Those curls have to be tamed. We're going for a young Clark Kent look."

"Oh, okay –gel should work." Darren said, running his fingers through his locks. Disbelief was still evident in his voice. Ryan grinned.

"Well, there's that. I'll be sending your work schedule and other sundry details to your manager. Although I need your commitment right here, right now, that you will be available for the Glee Convention this fall so we could introduce Blaine to the fans –charismatic lead singer of the Dalton Academy –"

"Blaine?"

"Blaine…" Ryan shrugged. "I'm still not sure what lat name I'd give him. So he's just Blaine for now. I'll provide you with his profile and your copy of the script through your agent as soon as it is available. One thing you should know right away though, Blaine is gay. But I don't think you'll have a problem with that."

Darren shook his head. Jessica had earlier briefed him that the part might have to be that of a gay teen. "No, and yes, you have my word. I will be available for any promotion this time around." He moved to shake Ryan's hand, a wide smile gracing his lips this time. "Thank you for giving me another chance, Ryan. I will work hard to earn it –you won't be disappointed."

Ryan returned the handshake with a firm grip of his own.

"I have the feeling that I will be the one to thank you soon enough. You're a talented young man, Darren. You will be a great addition to the show. I am pretty –oh, hang on –" Ryan's phone chose that moment to ring. "Let me get this first and I'll give you some papers to give Jess…" The Glee Creator answered the call, leaving Darren on his own for a while. Ryan hurriedly walked off to one corner, quietly conversing with whoever was on the phone. But, the silence did not last long.

"WHAT! And you're telling me THIS –NOW? What? Ian –I know I told you my phone would be off when I went home early from the party last night –but –You could have emailed me, or something! Smoke signals! Astral Body Projection! I don't know! You could've passed the message on to Sydney –NO! For crying out –Of course, not! I think I should be one of the first ones to know if one of my stars were involved in a car accident –IMMEDIATELY! Is he okay now? What? Who cares about the press? Of course it is – I'll be there, damn it! It's more than just the show! Chris is like a son to me –YES. I know. Fine. Bye." Ryan ended the call with a worried sigh. From a short distance, Darren was at a loss on how to proceed.

"Um, is everything okay?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Darren," Ryan shot him a sympathetic look. "I don't usually talk to people that way, but one of the kids –Chris –Chris Colfer –had been involved in an accident late last night, and for some reason I'm only finding out about it now –" he glanced at his watch. "Eleven hours later."

"Chris Colfer?" Darren clarified. "He's the one playing Kurt Hummel, am I right? He's good. I hope he's okay."

"He's stable now," said Ryan, stuffing his phone back into his pocket and walking back towards Darren. "I don't have all the details, but I am under the impression that he had to be revived. According to the doctors, he's some sort of miracle case. They expect him to wake up within the next few hours."

"Can I –may I visit him?" Darren asked timidly. He certainly did not know the protocol for co-stars you haven't even met yet, but Ryan seemed genuinely concerned for this young man and Darren thought it only right to be at least sympathetic to the situation. "I mean, we'll be working together soon anyway, and I just thought that –"

"I was going to suggest that you meet him one of these days in an informal setting," Ryan told him with a small smile. "He'd be one of the actors you'd be working with the most this season and t would help a lot if you two manage to build an off-set rapport. It won't be an ideal setting, but I guess a hospital visit won't hurt. Do you have anywhere else to go today?"

Darren shook his head. He had planned on going to Joey's to tell him of the good news, but that could wait. Something in him just knew that seeing his injured co-actor was more important and necessary. Ryan motioned for him to come along.

"Well, come on then Blaine. Let's introduce you to Kurt."

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010101**

-END OF CHAPTER 1-

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010101**

**An excerpt from Chapter 2: Places**

The door opened wide as Ryan stepped aside to let whoever it was, in.

' _Five… Four… Three…'_

Why did it seem that time was slowing down all of a sudden? Chris felt his heart beat almost stop completely at what he saw next.

The first thing was a pair of hands, wrapped around the largest arrangement of sunflowers he had ever seen. Then, he saw the bright red shirt, then the black jeans…

' _Two… One…'_

Then, a man's face came through, framed by soft, dark curls, accented with the most charming smile. Chris barely registered Ryan's last two words.

" –Darren Criss."

**0101010101010101010101010101010101010101**


	3. Places

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: see Prologue. For this particular chapter: A Darren/OFC flashback –but nothing graphic.
> 
> A/N: Thank you for the wonderful feedback especially from the previous chapter. Let me just reiterate, NEVER EVER drink and drive, people. Anyhow, I hope you continue to enjoy the story. –C.
> 
> P.S. You will find out that the concept of the Universe of Angels and Heaven* in this story is similar to that in my other story FALL (Klaine AU). If you want to have an idea of how I designed everything in detail, the mechanics of how I view afterlife and what-not, you may refer to that particular story. The plot of it however is in no way related to OTL, although I am aware that it could fit in the timeline somewhere. Also, the song mentioned in this chapter is called 'Hey Angel' –something I wrote a couple of years back. I do realize you have no idea of how my songs sound and I haven't got the time to actually record them and put them out on YouTube or something so I will give you an approximation of HOW they should sound (roughly) and feel.
> 
> PROLOGUE: Circles – Don't You by Darren Criss
> 
> Chapter 1: Air – Gemini by Spongecola
> 
> Chapter 2: Hey Angel – The Day You Said Goodnight by Hale
> 
> Note however, that these are only approximations. The songs do not follow the melody of the songs referred to. The ones listed here are the closest I could get to the over-all THEMATIC FEEL and rhythm of the ones I have composed. To remedy this issue in the future, I plan to put the original recorded ones out sometime soon –if anybody's interested, that is.
> 
> Moonlight Sonata by Ludwig Van Beethoven belongs to him. Kindly try to listen to it if you're not familiar –one of my favorite works of his.
> 
> ***IMPORTANT***
> 
> I understand that some hard-core CRISSCOLFER shippers may be offended by the mentions of Darren/OFC pairing, but I assure you, this is only a necessary 'EVIL'. Anything I write, I try to inject with a bit of something called Character Development, and in no way is this particular story different. Great love stories do not just materialize out of nowhere. Life experiences define us and how we react to certain situations and certain people. I assure you, Darren and Chelsea's back-story is NEEDED. After all, we will not get a TAKE TWO without a TAKE ONE, right? Darren needs to mature first before he can be the perfect soulmate for Chris and for that to happen, he has to be tempered by a tragedy. If you think Darren, as he is in real life, is a bit too happy-go-lucky for the serious Mr. Colfer, I share your sentiments –hence, this AU. This is not meant to change Mr. Criss, but give him more depth as a character. So no fretting. Chris will get his man soon enough, just trust me. And for those who'd learned to love my spunky Chelsea, worry not, I have plans for her and a certain blue-eyed cutie (wink, wink).

**Chapter 2: Places**

" _Do you believe in soulmates, Chris Colfer?"_

_-:-_

**(April 2010 –Somewhere Out There)**

The sound of a lone cello playing could be best described as haunting –it had that certain allure of a mysterious woman, perhaps hidden behind a flimsy veil; or of an enigmatic bandit shrouded in darkness, stealing hearts; or of the frail, gripping claws of death, masked by a perplexing puzzle –something as mundane perchance, as a simple case of falling asleep and never waking up.

But, nothing is ever as simple in truth, for all things are always entangled with at least one other in a way, and in no manner is that ever simple.

In a vast expanse of nothingness –that is, if perpetual light and puffs of airy, luminous clouds could be construed as nothing –a somber melody permeates, greatly contrasting with what the sight can perceive. A lone cello dominates, its strings dancing to Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata; its choreographer, a pair of gentle, pale hands, filled with deeply-rooted passion, drunk with longing, driven by sorrowful love. The woman owning them had her eyes closed, her cascade of raven hair gently swept behind one ear, exposing the delicate curve of her bent neck. Her shoulders were tensed, but her arms were noticeably relaxed, as was the rest of her body. As she reached the peak of the crescendo however, a fire-like possession engulfed her calm –her movements became jerky, almost violent. The gentleness of her fingers were lost in her wrist's sharp movements. The music filling that bright desert started swelling and swelling, filling up every conceivable space with it's spirit –

'CLAP, CLAP, CLAP,'

The woman stopped playing, her arms poised in mid-air, and opened her eyes. Her bright onyx irises automatically zeroed in on the source of that distraction, a tall blonde man with the kindest blue eyes. He stood before the woman, smiling.

"I will certainly miss your concertos when you leave."

The woman raised an eyebrow before setting her bow and cello down.

"Leave? You're kicking me out, Gabriel?"

Gabriel chuckled. :Hardly, Chelsea. I'm giving you your final assignment."

"Final –assignment?" Chelsea's eyes widened. "You –you mean –I'm earning my wings this time? For real? Are you really giving me my wings? No more 'half-assed' angel status?"

"No." Gabriel shook his head amusedly. "None of that. Once you complete this mission, you'll get inducted to the Second Circle* -"

"Finally!" Chelsea jumped from her position on a 'cloud stool'. "It's already been a little over a year, you know? About time –"

"We were looking for the perfect opportunity," admitted Gabriel, brushing off an invisible speck of dirt from his pristine white tuxedo. "Peter thinks that this one mission will give you the best 'test of faith' so to speak." Chelsea rolled her eyes.

"That man hates me. So, what will it be? Ferrying a lost soul? Baby-sitting a lonely child? Playing messenger to a bereaved family –"

"Soulmates," Gabriel told her softly, his eyes never leaving the form of the spirited woman. Chelsea looked utterly confused for her part. "Soulmates?" She clarified. Gabriel nodded an explanation. "Yes, you know? Two predestined people –"

"I know that," Chelsea interrupted him. "What I do not understand is how I play into this. From what Raphael told me, soulmates are an inevitability –they just happen. We really don't have to interfere with them because no matter what, they eventually end up together anyway, one way or another. So what's the deal with this one you're assigning to me?"

Gabriel let out a deep sigh before motioning for Chelsea to retake her seat. Once she did, he took his own and eyed her critically. "You'll be working with an anomaly," he said carefully, watching her reaction with worried eyes. Chelsea frowned.

"Of course, nothing's ever simple, not for me," She shrugged. "Can I at least know why this one's an anomaly?"

"He's a Dual-Bonded,"

"A –What?"

"He has two soulmates," Gabriel explained. Chelsea huffed. "You could have just said that. So what do I do, play referee or something? Who's this guy anyway? You said 'he' so I assume it's a guy –"

"He's already lost his first mate," Gabriel told her, biting his lip and looking downright uncomfortable –that alone set Chelsea off on the edge. Angels never get uncomfortable, especially not her mentor Gabriel, Head of the Seventh Circle. She crossed her arms and waited for the explanation.

"Chelsea, your task is to appear to his second soulmate and guide him –"

"Wait, 'him'? As in two guys?" Chelsea asked, bewildered. She did not have issues with homosexuality, quite the contrary, but it was sort of disconcerting –in a good way –to hear an Archangel, a Soldier of Light, acknowledge it as if it were only commonplace. Oh, what field day the equality activists would have if they only knew. Heaven has a place for you whether you were straight, gay or purple. The raven-haired woman brought her focus back to her mentor. "Okay, let me get this straight. I'll be guiding this other guy to this 'anomalous' other guy." She air-quoted. "Like, seriously?"

"Exactly." Gabriel sighed. He was only explaining things, but even he, was already feeling the beginnings of a full-blown headache –a headache he would already have had he been human.

Chelsea let out a deep breath she had no idea she was holding in. "Who?' She fixed Gabriel an anxious glare. "I may not be psychic, but I know there's something more to this mission than you're letting on. There has to be a reason why you had to wait a year to let me earn my wings, when in fact, you could have done it anytime –and it's not because Peter is being a bas –difficult," she amended quickly. "So tell me, Gab. What's the catch?"

Gabriel had been doing his job longer than the existence of the universe itself, but never before had he met such a spunky, spirited, yet genuinely innocent soul like Chelsea. He remembered seeing her for the first time, weeping brokenly –not for her fate, but for those she had left behind: grieving parents and a forsaken fiancé. In that moment, Gabriel understood why the Boss had wanted him to attend to her himself. She was a special soul, with a special mission. Gabriel met that special soul's eyes now, filled with questions and just that hint of fear and uncertainty.

"Your charge's name is Chris Colfer. He's a young actor. He's been bullied all his life for being gay, but his circumstances are better now. He'd just been involved in a car accident recently though. He almost crossed over, so that will be your entry point –"

"Sixth sense? 'I see dead people' –all that cliché?" The fiery young woman clarified. The Head Archangel nodded. "It will be easier that way, both for you and for him, as he is the hard-to-convince type. He's a careful kid, but he's prone to lapses in judgment when plied with alcohol."

"Okay," Chelsea nodded absently. "Who is the unfortunate soulmate of dear Mr. Colfer then?"

The question hung in the air for a good three minutes until Gabriel stood up from his seat. He walked towards Chelsea and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"He's mated to –Darren Criss."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**(April 2009 –Manila, Philippines)**

_**The skies were blue, that fine summer's day, the grass moist from the early morning dew. The dried mango leaves lining the cobblestone path made a crunching noise against the young man's purple Converse sneakers as he trudged along. A gentle breeze blew, upsetting his wild nest of curls. He made no move to tame it, and instead, kept one hand plastered to his side, clutching a bunch of sunflowers, red roses and white daisies. His other hand held in it a battered-looking guitar –one that had seen one too many scenes like this in the recent past.** _

_**The sun was starting to feel warm against the man's olive skin, a rather welcomed yet contrasting feeling to the cold tendrils gripping the sinews of his already numbed heart.** _

_**He continued his walk nevertheless, the honey eyes concealed behind dark sunglasses looking straight ahead. He went in that stead for a while until he reached a black marble marker underneath the shade of a tall mango tree. He stopped, setting his guitar down on the grass and gently dropping to his knees before the recently overturned earth. A dried bouquet of roses, sunflowers and daisies from sometime in the last month lay on top. He reached for it, and immediately, the withered petals disintegrated with his touch. He brushed the dust away with his free hand before replacing it with the fresh bunch he had with him. The yellows, whites and reds made a lovely foil to the black marble, etched with gold. He removed his sunglasses and pocketed it.** _

Chelsea Celestine Cruz

October 11, 1988 – February 20, 2009

Beloved daughter, friend and fiancé…

_**Shaky fingers caressed the engraved words lovingly.** _

" _ **It's never fair, you know?" The young man spoke quietly, his eyes never leaving the name gracing the elegant tombstone. The one time you cheat on me, you cheat on me with Death… Just how –how do I compete with that?" His voice faltered, but his eyes remained dry. He may have just exhausted every last drop of tears in him in the last 40 days. He felt his knees give way eventually after a few silent minutes in that position. He sat on his heels.**_

" _ **I –I miss you –but you already know that." He sighed. "Your mom –she said you'd be around here today. I don't know if that's true, but I certainly hope so." The young man then grabbed his guitar and moved to sit on the grass cross-legged.**_

" _ **You know I'm never good with words –but –but I have so much to tell you," he continued addressing his unseen audience. "You used to make fun of me when I try and dedicate a song I wrote to you, but I see the way your eyes light up when you do, and I –" he shook his head. "And I'm rambling again. I remember how I used to be at a loss for words whenever you turned those puppy dog eyes at me when we were little –and how I could not say no to that look when we grew older. God, I'd give anything to see them again –to see you again, hear you, feel you…" Saline began to cloud his vision. So maybe, his tears hadn't all dried up yet. He made no move to brush them away, however. Instead, he grabbed the battered guitar and used his calloused fingers to begin strumming the tune to a heartfelt song:**_

Hey angel, won't you listen to these words I'm singing now

Hey angel, are you lonely, like you know I am no doubt

Oh angel, why leave me, can't heaven go on without you

Sweet angel, I still need you, why must be fate so cruel?

.

If I pray hard enough, would you spread your wings and fly

To me, oh angel, to give us another try

If I wish to every star that I see in the sky

Would you come and dry these tears tonight?

.

Hey angel, are you listening, can you tell that guy up there

He can take back, the wings he gave you, drop you off somewhere

I'll come and find you, oh I will take you back again

Sweet angel, I'll be waiting, you know I will 'til the end

.

Because I'll do anything to make the heavens see

They made a mistake, you belong here with me

Now that you're gone, I can hardly breathe

Now that they've taken my angel, my reason to live…

**.**

_**The last notes and the cool baritone accompanying it faded into the background as wracking sobs overtook the melancholic ballad. The man hastily wiped the tears away this time as he stood up. With one final glance at the flowers he had laid down, he sighed.** _

" _ **Forever, Chelsea. See you until then,"**_

_**Picking up his guitar, the young man turned to leave, retracing the steps he had taken earlier…** _

_**However, on the spot he had just vacated, a figure sat still, the breeze doing nothing to move her perpetually tousled waves. She had a bittersweet expression on her tear-stricken face as her bright obsidian eyes followed the departing man and his guitar, wistfully.** _

" _ **Inspired rhyming, Dare," she smiled. Then, as soon as it was on, it was replaced by a forlorn expression. A soft sigh escaped her lips eventually.**_

" _ **Always, Darren. Always. Wait for me,"**_

_**And, in the blink of an eye, the woman was gone.** _

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**(April 2010 –Los Angeles, California)**

When Chris opened his eyes, he immediately knew that something was off… that something was wrong.

For one, it was too bright, and it was never this bright in his room. His thick linen drapes made sure of that… so he wasn't in his room then?

Another thing… it was too quiet. It was as if his ears were stuffed with cotton. The usual white noise was conspicuously absent, and except for a constantly shrill beeping sound, he could definitely not hear a thing. Where was he? He tried to clear up his vision by blinking rapidly. Why… just why was everything too white?

As Chris tried to ponder his strange predicament however, a different set of images appeared in his mind's eye: a party, Amber Riley coming up to him with champagne and gossip, him getting into his car, that ginormous splitting headache erupting as he navigated that last turn before he reached his neighborhood…

Then, impact. Chris realized with a jolt just what exactly had happened and where he could possibly be at the moment. However, as he tried to piece things together, his musings were interrupted.

"You're awake," a soft voice intoned, and suddenly, Chris was looking at probably one of the most beautiful women he'd seen, and he'd seen a lot of them. He may be completely batting for the other team, but he still knew feminine beauty when he saw one. The woman had thick raven hair that fell in soft, long waves around her face –that alone was a dead giveaway that she probably wasn't a nurse or a doctor for that matter, Chris thought, his mind parallel-processing what he's seeing to what he was thinking. His eyes left the woman momentarily, taking in the white walls and the chrome bed frame. He had to be in a hospital, right? He glanced to his right and saw a machine that was apparently monitoring his now-steady heartbeat. The sound it made was disconcerting for some reason, however. Chris turned his attention back at the woman who was watching him by –what he had assumed to be –a closed doorway. Her dark eyes were looking at him contemplatively. Chris took the time to notice the rest of her appearance: She was wearing a ruffled sleeveless shirt in stark white, paired with dark skinny jeans ending into a pair of black leather stilettos. Her left hand was casually resting on her hip and from his vantage point, Chris thought that he can see a ring of sparkle from one of her fingers. Her face was pleasantly neutral at the moment, just looking at Chris. The young actor could not detect any negative emotion though, so that must be a good sign. He gripped the sheets he had just noticed that were around him.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled at him before coming closer and stopping at the foot of the hospital bed he was lying in. Chris pushed himself up to a sitting position. He grimaced at the pain that shot up his chest. That answered one thing –

"You're not dead," the woman confirmed as if reading his thoughts. "Nor are you dreaming. Although from what I've heard, you did die for almost a minute and the doctors had to revive you."

"Wh- what?" Chris' eyes widened. He had –died? He had actually died? "I –what –why –how –" the woman held her hand up to stop his seemingly aimless babbling. "Look, I'll be quick –I don't have much time." She glanced at the door behind her, then back to Chris. "I'm dead."

' _Wow, what a way to catch a guy's attention_.' Chris frowned. "I beg your pardon?" The woman sighed, giving Chris a bitch-please glare that unnerved the young actor.

"I'm dead," the woman repeated in a rather bored tone, as if she was only talking about the weather. "I died in a car accident a little over a year ago –Although in my defense, I wasn't half-drunk like you were. Stupid, yeah, but sober." She shrugged. "Anyway, I'm here because for some reason, the guys from above, Peter and the Seventh Circle, thought it prudent to give you the chance I had been denied –"

"Wait, Peter and the Seventh Circle?" Chris asked, looking extremely puzzled. "From above? Chances? Wait, are you telling me that –"

"Peter and the Seventh Circle –sounds like an indie rock band, doesn't it?" The woman smirked. "And yes, from above, the great beyond for good souls –like me –Heaven. Peter is the Gate Keeper and Head Bas –um, councilman. The Seventh Circle is the elite group of Archangels, the leader of which, is my mentor, Gabriel –"

"Saint Peter? Archangel Gabriel?" Chris was looking more and more perplexed by the minute. "Your mentor? Wait, are you –like, and angel or something?" Chris glanced around in disbelief, as if expecting hidden cameras to suddenly pop out. The woman looked at him warily.

"No, Colfer, you're not being Punk'd." She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose in what can be perceived as mild annoyance. "And I am what you call 'or something.' I am not a full-pledged angel yet as you can see –" She showed him her back. "No wings. That is where you come in. You are my passport to the Third Circle*. So for now, I prefer the term 'guide'. And I believe I haven't properly introduced myself, my name is Chelsea." She gave him a lopsided grin. "You will address me as such. And before you ask, all those angel-clichés apply. Only you can see or hear me, although if a clairvoyant is nearby, they'll be able to sense my presence –but don't bother introducing me to your friends. I'm generally harmless and I take up no space at all. You cooperate with me, I'll earn my wings and we'll all live happily ever after. Capeche?"

"Wha –Why?" Chris asked, his mouth agape, still unable to fully grasp the whole idea. Had he just been given the standard 'I'm your Guardian Angel' speech? That must be the painkillers talking, right? That must be it. He was hallucinating. There was no other explanation for what was happening. While Chris was contemplating his sanity in silence and the after-effects of a possible concussion, Chelsea was watching him. The female guide frowned and crossed her arms.

"Why –What? I may be a supernatural being, but contrary to popular belief, I can't read minds. Although, that expression on your face tells me that whatever you are thinking about can't be good for my mission –"

"Why –me?" Chris finally asked. "And why exactly are you here? Are you really expecting me to believe all this? If this is a big joke somebody paid you to do, then I suggest you drop it because it's not in the least funny." Chris mirrored the position of Chelsea's arms and shot her a glare. The woman sighed deeply and dropped her hands onto her hips.

"When I was told that you were the 'hard-to-convince' type, I should have listened." The guide then sat on the edge of Chris' bed. "I've seen your file. Ask me something only you would know." She challenged him. When Chris cocked his head onto one side skeptically, Chelsea grinned. "You want proof that I am who I claim to be, right? While I cannot make something explode or catch fire, I can tell you things only YOU would know. Come on, Colfer. Try me." Chris shrugged and thought for a moment.

"Okay then, No one dead or alive would know the answer to this." He looked at her pointedly. "What would I name my son if I had one?"

Chelsea raised an eyebrow before breaking out into a smug smile.

"Nice try, Colfer. You wouldn't need a name for a son as you've always wanted to adopt a little girl with dark curls and bright blue eyes." She smirked. "And the name is Emily, after your favorite author, Emily Dickenson."

"OH –MY –GOD." The expression on Chris' face went from disbelief to shock very quickly. No one, absolutely no one, knew of his desire to adopt a little girl in the distant future, whether with a partner or alone. The young actor turned to his guide with a changed perspective. "How –you –tell me why you're here. Why now? Why not when I was miserable and –and…" the rest of Chris' words trailed, as he found himself unable to voice out the horrors of his youth. Chelsea scooted closer to the conflicted-looking young man until she was able to gently touch his cheek. For some reason, the touch, though cold as ice, warmed Chris' heart. He found his azure eyes staring deeply into the fathomless pools of obsidian. For a moment, the thought that Chelsea's eyes were actually a very dark brown, and not black, filled his head. Chelsea's soft voice, bite and sarcasm noticeably absent now, brought him back to the present.

"I'm supposed to tell you that everything happens for a reason," his guide began, suppressing a barely-there smile. "On why those guys up there allowed you to go through such –trials, I can only guess. But at the risk of being overly redundant, there is method to any madness." Chelsea cupped Chris' chin and sighed. "Guides like me are sent out for a reason –different ones. I am very sorry to say that I was not meant to be your teenage self's defender or confidant. Of course, I was still alive back then, so…" She pulled her hand away and smiled. Chris found himself missing his guide's touch right away.

"Then why are you here?" Chris asked, sounding very much lost. When he was younger, he thought that if angels existed, one would have been sent to be his friend. But years of being taunted and practically alone (except for his family) he quickly learned to squash that idea. So now that he was face to face with an angel, he did not understand. His life was much, much better now. Why would he need a guide? As he mulled these thoughts in his head, Chelsea was playing with what Chris noticed earlier as a ring on her left hand –the left ring finger, to be exact. An engagement ring, perhaps? Up close, he could see that it was a thin platinum band dotted with one larger marquise-cut blush diamond in the middle and flanked by two smaller round white diamonds. It looked exquisite. The woman was looking at it rather fondly when she caught Chris staring.

"Do you believe in soulmates, Chris Colfer?"

And just like that, the skepticism was back in the soon to be 20 –year old. He cocked a perfectly arched eyebrow.

"Who does? That's all for the benefit of hopeless romantics who try to put meaning into the mundanity of everyday life. If there was someone out there for everyone, then how do you explain break-ups and divorces and people dying alone?" Chris scoffed. "You honestly believe that everyone has their 'One True Love?' That's overrated."

"Cynical, I like it." Chelsea pinched his cheek playfully. "What if I tell you it's true? That every soul has a match made in clichéd heaven? That there's someone out there who completes us and fills the spaces in our lives perfectly? That –"

"Have you found yours?" Chris interrupted his guide. He gestured at the ring on Chelsea's finger. The raven-haired woman followed his line of sight and smiled.

"I did," her tone was wistful, filled with longing. The expression on her face was something that Chris decided to file for later on.

"Well, where is he now? You obviously did not get your happy ending."

The moment the words left Chris' , he regretted it. Chelsea stiffened and covered the ring on her finger with her other hand in what could be perceived as a protective manner.

"No, I did not –"

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't –" Chris began, but Chelsea shushed him by shaking her head. The smile on her face dropped a notch, but only. She gestured towards the door with a jerk of her head. "What if I tell you that in exactly 10 minutes after that door opens, your soulmate will pass through it, wearing a red button-down shirt, black jeans and carrying a massive bouquet of sunflowers?" She stood up from her spot on Chris' bed and smoothed the front of her shirt. Then, fixing Chris a rather serious gaze, she continued. "He will be your forever, as you will be his –in whatever capacity that you two will allow –and no matter how hard you try to avoid or hinder it, you will end up with him."

"You can't know that," Chris pointed out. 'The only people who will pass through that door are people I already know. And trust me, none of them would attempt to give me a bouquet of sunflowers. They all know that my favorite are peonies. And judging by your description of this person's outfit, it won't be a hospital staff either. So, the chances of the scenario you've just described of ever happening is a whopping negative 100 %."

Chelsea's eyes brightened, as if she was suddenly trying not to laugh. "Oh, Chris Colfer. When it happens, I reserve the right to be the first one to say 'I told you so' okay?" She walked towards Chris and gave the young man a brief one-armed hug. "I'll be back soon, don't miss me much." She winked at him. 'I should let you see your family now. Hannah's been worried sick. And fear not, your mom won't chastise you for drunk-driving –much." With a final wave, Chelsea took a couple of steps back, and as soon as Chris blinked, she was gone. Not a second later, his door was opening. Chris remembered his guide's words and held his breath. Could it really be true? Do soulmates really exist?

"Oh –Honey –" Karyn Colfer entered. "Thank goodness, you're awake! Tim! Hannah!" Chris was being enveloped in warm hugs and sermons when he decided to risk it. He would figure out if it was true. He glanced at the wall clock hanging directly on the wall across his bed.

Three minutes have passed.

His doctor came on the 4th minute, lingering for only about a couple, pronouncing him miraculously well enough to be taken off the numerous machines he was currently hooked up to. The doctor explained to his parents the injuries he had sustained including the odd minute when his heart stopped beating all of a sudden. Thankfully, he was revived and there was no lasting damage. He just needed to take it easy for a few days and he'll be back to normal. The consultation ended at the seventh minute. Chris felt his heart begin to race. The doctor's departure gave way to Ryan Murphy entering his room, carrying a bouquet of peonies. He wore a crisp white shirt and a navy cardigan. The Glee producer's tensed face broke into an easy smile upon seeing Chris. The young actor's initial dread was back full force. Was he really hoping that Chelsea would somehow be proven right?

On the ninth minute, Chris realized that Ryan was talking to him.

" –He asked, and I thought why not? You'll be working with him soon anyway." Ryan walked towards the door and opened it. Chris held his breath, surreptitiously glancing at the clock.  _Twenty seconds…_

" **Chris, I'd like you to meet –"**

_Ten seconds… Nine… Eight… Seven… Six…_

The door opened wider as Ryan stepped outside to let whoever it was, in.

_Five… Four… Three…_

Why did it seem that time was slowing down all of a sudden? Chris felt his heart beat almost come to a halt at what he saw next.

The first thing was a pair of hands, wrapped around the largest arrangement of sunflowers he had ever seen. Then, he saw the bright red shirt, then, the black jeans.

_Two… One…_

Then, a man's face came through, framed by soft, wild dark curls, accented with the most charming smile. Chris barely registered Ryan's last two words…

" – **Darren Criss."**

**010101010101010101010101010101**

-END OF CHAPTER 2-

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**End A/N** _ **:**_ Chelsea being a 'special' soul would be explained in later chapters, as well as that quip about Heaven allowing Homosexuality. Other than that, what do you think? I do encourage you, dear readers, to send in questions or anything that you would like to see or get clarified in this story. Up Next:  **Chapter 3: Take Two–**  Here's a sneak peak:

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(AN EXCERPT FROM  **CHAPTER THREE: TAKE TWO** )

"A cynic?" Darren eyed Chris appraisingly. "I'd never peg you for one. You –when I see you, you always seem so positive." Chris met his observation with a meaningful sigh.

"I'm a firm believer in the innate goodness of man. But when all your life, you've been getting nothing but crap from most people, it tends to knock off your rose-colored glasses." He set his cup down and began toying with the patterns on the table cloth.

"You're a wonderful person, Chris," Darren told him, light golden eyes arresting Chris' baby blue ones, his larger hands finding Chris' smaller ones and grasping them tightly. "It doesn't take a lifetime to figure that out. I mean, I have astigmatism and I found that out five seconds into meeting you."

**010101010101010101010101010101**


	4. Take Two

**Chapter 3: Take Two**

" _Nothing brings two people closer together than being equally horrible at something"_

_-:-_

**(May 2010 –Los Angeles, California)**

Chris took a long sip from his water bottle. He was currently alone inside the break room at that part of Paramount Studios. Less than a month after his miraculous escape from death, he was back working. It was that time of the year again for the Pre-Season Zach Woodlee Dance Boot Camp. Everyone had to attend, even senior actors like Matt or Jane, or Harry, who was already a prodigy. It was only Day One, and they haven't officially started yet, seeing as they were still waiting for most of the other 'kids', but Chris could already feel the muscles in his legs and arms protesting. The mere thought of dancing was enough to give him cramps. He decided to take advantage of the five minutes Zach gave early birds like him and Mark, and retreated to the deserted break room. Mark had stepped outside to smoke.

Chris was about to take another sip when he felt a presence behind him.

"BOO." A soft voice whispered directly in his ear. The recently-twenty year old jumped in surprise.

"Quit doing that! God –you're going to give me a heart attack! What if someone sees me jumping in surprise because of thin air?" Chris scowled. "Don't you have some other place to be at, Chelsea?" The raven-haired guide grinned.

"Hello to you too, my dear charge," she quipped, ignoring Chris' disapproving glare. "How are you this fine day?" Chris sighed.

"I hate dancing." Then, suddenly remembering his guide's surprise entrance, "I thought I told you to give me a warning when you're going to appear? Remember the last time that you didn't? I accidentally squirted toothpaste all over the bathroom sink –"

"Yeah, that was funny," Chelsea smirked. "Hannah thought you were playing a game and got that tube of Bengay –"

"That wasn't funny!" Chris spat out. "Can't you like, I don't know, jingle –or something –to let me know you're coming? I know people can't see you, but I can! If they see me talking to no one like I am doing right now, the doctors might rethink my miracle case status and pronounce me dangerously deranged!"

"One, I do not come built in with an early warning device –that costs extra," Chelsea told him matter-of-factly. "Two, I won't appear if I didn't know you were alone. And three, I have nowhere else to be at but by your side until I've completed my mission. And that, Mr. Colfer, would not happen until you decide to play nice and cooperate with me. And Judging from the warm welcome I got from you just a while ago, it would seem that I may be stuck with you for a while.

Chris glared at her.

"We've already talked about this the last two times you've so unceremoniously dropped by, have we not? I already believe in the existence of soulmates, okay? There! Now You can vanish! Mission accomplished!"

Chelsea rolled her eyes. "I'm not stupid, you know. And besides, my mission isn't as ridiculously simple as convincing you that serendipity, kismet, and predestiny are real. Convincing you that soulmates exist is just a tiny part of what I need to do to earn my wings."

"Well, will you finally get to the point and tell me what it is then, so that I can let you guide me into it and then I can go back to my quiet existence? I'd rather much not worry that some otherwise unseen –being – would just all of a sudden pop out of nowhere. You're lucky I don't have heart problems." Chris snapped. Chelsea glared at him before relenting and sighing resignedly.

"My mission, is about Darren, as much as it is about you." The woman's pronouncement was met by a puzzled look from Chris. She motioned for Chris to take a seat in one of the plush-looking couches as he took one herself. "I can't tell you everything, but you have to trust me on this. I'll tell you as much as I am allowed to."

The young actor eyed his wristwatch. "I have to be back at the studio in five or Zach will skin me alive." Chelsea answered his dilemma by waving her hand elaborately towards the direction of the door.

"One of the many perks of a guide," she told her charge by means of an explanation. "We can manipulate short stretches of time. Outside this door, the clock had stopped. Now, will you give me your full and undivided attention?" Ignoring Chris' awed look, she continued. "Okay, now to begin: Since time immemorial, soulmates have been in existence –two souls, two halves of the same whole, predestined to meet and be in each other's lives no matter what –" Chris began his protest, but Chelsea held him up. "I know, I know, you'll argue that not all of us meets ours –at least not in this lifetime though, or in this plane of existence. But there is an afterlife. There is another lifetime beyond that. And another. So maybe, you don't get to meet your soulmate here and now, but there are a million other chances to do so. Reincarnation is a concept that exists, but not in the same manner most people believe. Souls do not get recycled and re-housed in new bodies when people die. If that happened, then there wouldn't be –beings –like me. When I had died, I would have been automatically reborn as a baby on that very same moment, if that's the case. So no, that's false. What does get recycled are chances. Chances given, that are not somehow fulfilled, those get passed on. And that is why I'm here with you, now." Chelsea glanced at Chris beside her with a meaningful expression. The young actor was staring into his water bottle as if it held all the answers to his doubts. The guide continued, now toying with the ring on her finger once more.

"I'm here to make sure that you get the happy ending I did not."

That got Chris to look up from his spot and stare at Chelsea. She was still looking at the platinum band on her hand and avoiding the azure eyes now on her.

"I –I don't understand," Chris eventually said, breaking his silence. Chelsea met his words with a smile.

"Yeah, confusing, I know. But I'll try my best to simplify." She leaned back in her seat and daintily crossed her ankles. "It's like this. Sometimes, the system of soulmates get fucked up." Chris snorted at the crude language, but Chelsea ignored him and continued. "So, they get this weird bug they call 'anomalies' and because of them, instead of one, a certain soul gets two predestined mates. The not-really lucky bitch or bastard that gets this is called a Dual-Bonded –technical stuff –don't bother remembering. There won't be a quiz later." The woman quipped.

"Why?" Chris asked, now looking genuinely interested.

"Beats me," Chelsea shrugged. "I don't have the right security clearance level for those kinds of questions, so all I know is that it just happens. What I know however, is that when it occurs, the guys up there try to rectify the matter. From what I learned, they let the Dual-Bonded meet his first mate earl in life." She paused, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if to stave off an oncoming headache. "Then, in a morbidly twisted and wickedly cruel fashion, that person loses said Soulmate Number One in whatever manner, to make way for Soulmate Number Two to enter his or her life and help him or her get through –"

"That's barbaric," Chris found himself commenting. "What if this Dual-Bonded person gets so devastated by his loss that he refuses to move on? What then of his second soul mate? Will they be miserable then?"

"The guys up there thought of that," said Chelsea, looking almost pleased at Chris' reaction to her word's earlier. "If the need arose, they send guides to bring the second soulmate into that person's life –"

"And you're telling me that for some reason, Darren Criss has two soulmates, that he's miserable after his first soulmate left him and that in some twisted play of Chance, I'm the unfortunate second soulmate and that –you –are here to guide me to him?" Chris asked incredulously.

"Bingo." Chelsea beamed. "He may not seem like it, however…" her smile dropped as her sentence trailed off. "There is more to him." She then shrugged, not anymore bothering to finish her train of thought.

"And you really expect me to just –believe that?"

"Yep."

"But why you? Of all the poor, unfortunate souls to be my guide, what makes you special?" Chris asked, eying the raven-haired woman curiously. "And don't tell me it's because you died of a car accident." For the first time since Chris saw her, Chelsea looked worried. She bit her lip.

"That –is one of the things I cannot tell you about. Sorry." She then waved her hand towards the direction of the door once more. "We can continue this some other time. I should let you get back to practice." She stood up. "oh, and Zach will ask you to partner up. Go with Darren, okay? I'll check back with you later tonight," she grinned at her charge. "There, gave you a warning." Chelsea then gave Chris her customary wave. The next time the azure eyes blinked, the young actor was alone once more.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

Since Chelsea managed to stop the time outside of the break room, Chris was back at the rehearsal studio earlier than he was supposed to. There were still only a few of them in there: Heather waved at him from the far side of the room where she was doing her plies. The new guy Chord was sitting idly in one corner with headphones covering his ears. Mark was just right behind Chris, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed him. Chris was about to join Heather in her warm-ups when he noticed HIM…

The hair was different now –the curls were still there, but less wild, But the rest of him was still as Chris remembered, seeing him for the first time at the hospital; the peculiar triangular eyebrows, the honey-golden eyes, the olive skin and that adorable, lopsided grin. Instead of a button-down shirt and jeans, the man was clad in a black round-necked shirt that said 'PIGFARTS' in neon green lettering and a pair of charcoal-grey drawstring pants. Chris noted with amusement that the cross-trainers he had on matched the green in his shirt, but the socks he could see covering the man's ankles were bright pink. Said man was currently conversing with Zach himself, the choreographer, laughing at what was being said, evidently under the spell of the charming young man he was talking to and not noticing at all.

But Chris noticed, even from afar, having been subjected to the same spell-binding charisma, that one day in his hospital room.

One thing was certain. Soulmates or not, Chris could definitely not deny the attraction he felt towards one Darren Criss. After that brief, almost serendipitous, hospital encounter, the two of them haven't really had the chance to 'spend time together' to 'build up rapport' as Ryan put it, with Chris being busy with writing his book, and Darren recording songs for his soon-to-be released album. But that one moment was enough to leave a permanent imprint of the curly-haired man in Chris' head.

Honestly, who wouldn't be drawn to those liquid gold eyes or that winsome smile? Add the fact that the man seemed genuinely nice, and Chris was more than sold.

So what if he was, apparently, the one to pick up the pieces that Darren's first soulmate had left shattered? He looked at the man. Chelsea had earlier warned Chris to not take Darren's cheerful nature at face value. There is more to him, she said.  _'Was Darren really as broken as Chelsea made him out to be?'_  Chris thought. Could he actually help this man? He could do that, right? And besides, that was what his guide was for…

Chris thought of his guide's peculiar reaction to him, questioning her assignment as his 'angel'. He could tell that it was a sore topic for Chelsea and it wasn't just because she was forbidden to tell him about it. He had to know why. There is a connection that he shared with her, that, he was sure about. If only he could find out what exactly it was, then maybe, things would be much easier to understand…

But for moment, his reveries were interrupted as Zach asked them to partner up. Remembering Chelsea's words, and coupled with his own desire to do so, Chris went u to Darren with a smile.

"Partners?"

Darren, for his part, looked genuinely surprised, but pleased at the same time. "Sure, but I'm warning you. The most choreography I've done is to jerk my head and sway my hips. I'd rather jump on unsuspecting furniture than dance." He gave Chris a roguish wink that made the latter blush.

"I can do the jazz walk, jazz hands and the two-step, but that's about it," Chris countered. Darren replied with an impish grin and held his hand out for Chris to take, which the younger actor did. "Well, Mr. Colfer," Darren began in a mock-serious voice. "It seems we've found our perfect partners. Nothing brings two people closer together than being equally horrible at something." He ended by curtsying. Chris laughed good-naturedly. Zach was now giving them instructions, but the glasz-eyed actor was too busy looking into Darren's eyes to hear what exactly they were supposed to do.

"I doubt you're horrible at this, Mr. Criss, but you do exude a non-threatening vibe, I give you that. I used to partner Kevin. And believe me, a guy in a chair, even a pretend one, who could dance better than me standing up, can definitely make one feel rather inadequate."

Darren got the mental image and his eyes brightened even more. Zach was apparently asking them to do tandem stretching. The older of the two actors too the lead and maneuvered them both into the first position, the Roman Chair. "Everyone here is amazing. I'm like, star-struck, the first time I arrived and saw everybody. I'm so lucky to be here."

Chris smiled at him, "You fit right in."

"Ah, flattery will get you anywhere, young Chris. Do well and remember that," Darren quipped. "Hey, you sure that you're alright doing this stuff? I mean, it's barely a month since your accident." Chris shook his head.

"Nah, it's fine. Miracle case, remember? The doctors gave me the green light. As long as I don't get asked to jump on furniture, I'll be okay."

"I'll willingly cover for you on that anytime," Darren grinned, gently helping Chris up for their next exercise, the Forward Pull. "Um, uh, Chris?"

"Yeah?" Chris faced his partner, curious. To his surprise, Darren had leaned forward, slightly, as if he was about to whisper something in the countertenor's ear. Gold met blue as the younger actor held his breath. Darren's face was hovering inches away from his… in that close proximity, he could see the tiny green flecks dotting the older actor's honey irises. Any inch closer, and they would already practically be kissing. Kissing! But before Chris could contemplate further if Darren's lips were as soft as they appeared to be, the curly-haired man was already pulling away. Chris released a sigh –he did not know though if it was one of disappointment or of relief.

"You really have beautiful eyes," Darren almost whispered, looking at his partner with something almost akin to awe and wonderment. "They appear to be a very pale shade of green from afar, but once you get closer –" Darren leaned in again as if to demonstrate his point. "Close enough, like this –" he tipped his face even closer towards Chris this time, and Chris was sure he had forgotten how to breathe at that moment. How can Darren be so, so, so close and not kissing him like that? What was he thinking? He tried to focus on something else that was safe, like his cat Brian. Or the mailman. Or the mailman running away from a pissed-off Brian.

"They're actually a very light blue," Darren was now saying, having returned to his rightful place, not mere inches away from Chris' face. "They're complex and enigmatic, like the colors of the ocean." The younger actor smiled, in relief, this time. He knew his face was impossibly red by now, but at least he could chalk that up to physical exertion. Was this guy for real? Gorgeous… and utterly romantic? Who speaks like that nowadays?

"I –well –thanks. You have lovely eyes too –honey golden"

Darren chuckled. "That's a rather appetizing way of putting it. Thank you." he scratched the back of his neck in that goofy sort of way that Chris had seen once before –that day in the hospital when Ryan mentioned to Chris that he'd be working with Darren for most of the time that season –it was an 'embarrassed' gesture.  _'Embarrassed in a sort of cute and awkward way,'_  Chris mused.

"That reminds me of one thing," said Darren as they finished their first set of pulls and began switching places.

"What's that?" Chris asked. Darren ran his fingers through his curls –his 'uncomfortable' gesture.  _'Uncomfortable in a cute and awkward manner,'_  Chris thought again. Was he really able to read Darren that easily? Was it the same, the other way around? Was Darren easily able to figure him out too? Is it their soulmate connection working?

Darren was now kneeling before him, ready for their next set of pulls. As he looked expectantly up at Chris with those bright and widely innocent puppy-dog eyes, the azure-eyed actor could not help but blush yet again –and no, it most definitely had nothing to do with the fact that the two of them were in the archetypal poses for a traditional marriage proposal. Or maybe it did.

And as if reading Chris' thoughts, Darren let out a n amused and mildly uneasy laugh. He took Chris' hands in his.

"You see, I forgot the ring, and I know we've just met, but I was kind of hoping you'd still want to get coffee with me later?"

**010101010101010101010101010101**

Coffee with Chris had been nothing short of wonderful, and Darren found himself genuinely smiling more and more as the minutes passed by. As he got his coffee order, as well as Chris', Darren remembered Ryan's words with fondness.

"You honestly take your coffee the way Kurt does? Non-fat mocha? Grande?"

Chris smiled at his query as he accepted the tall cup from Darren.

"Don't tell anyone, but Ryan took that bit of me when he wrote Kurt's little quirks." The ocean eyes gave him a wink. "But that's about the most that I have in common with the guy." He gestured at his outfit of a red hooded jacket, a plain white t-shirt underneath and slim-cut jeans. "No scarves, no skinnies, no waistcoats."

"I've noticed," Darren took his seat right across. "No monthly subscriptions to Vogue? No moisturizing routines? Not that you need it, of course. You really have soft skin… I mean, hands."

"Thank you. I do like routines, just not skin care ones." Chris flushed, biting his lips in that sort of awkward yet endearing manner that Darren had learned, meant that the younger man was embarrassed.

"Hey, I kid you not," amended Darren, trying to save Chris from the awkwardness. "I've read Blaine's character profile. I'm supposed to be this polite and charming perfect gentleman –but when I'm just being me, I could be wacky and brutally honest, so I cannot be as far removed as I am from my character."

"But you are," Chris said, taking a sip of his mocha. "Charming, I mean. For instance, I've never seen Zach warm up to a new actor as easily as he did to you."

"Oh," Darren chuckled. "That… Let's just say that Zach is a closet fan of A Very Potter Musical and its Sequel."

"He is?" Chris' eyes widened. Darren drank his espresso and nodded. "Have you seen it? I know I might sound really conceited and –"

"Are you kidding me?" Chris rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Number one fan at your service. I can't believe you have no idea how much I loved it. That Zefron poster was hilarious." He admitted. "And your hair by the way, was totally out of control."

"Why, thank you –really?" Darren sounded like he could not believe what Chris had just said. Eventually he laughed. "In my defense, the hair was required for the role."

"That it is," Chris smiled. "Don't sound so surprised. Anyhow, you'd better enjoy those curls while it lasts. I heard from a very reliable source that the Hair and Make-up Department had just placed an order for a whole truckload of gel –"

"Ugh, don't remind me." Darren mock-pouted. "If it wasn't really necessary, I'd rather not tame my curls. I'm like Samson. I need my locks to be able to perform miraculous feats." Chris snorted.

"Well, it could be worse, you know? At least you don't have three hairstylists running after you, each armed with a spray can of Aqua Net?"

"Aqua Net? People still use that stuff?" asked Darren. 'And did they really?" He was looking at Chris in a sort-of child-like innocent wonderment. Chris nodded over the rim of his coffee cup. "You should tell Teena that. It's poison for the environment or something." He said seriously. The older of the two then burst out laughing.

"I would, but it may be funny to see you in action –ducking behind coasters like a ninja, throwing shuriken stars at unsuspecting hairdressers." He took another sip of his espresso and let the lightness of their current conversation wash over him.

When was the last time that he had felt so… comfortable? So… free? And here he was, talking to a guy he had met in a hospital suite just a little over a month ago, discussing the most mundane of topics… and it felt just right. Darren shook his head inwardly. What was happening here? For months, he'd been lost and forsaken and one coffee not-date alone later and it felt like the past year never actually took place. Many had tried –he had his friends, people whom he knew for years and years –but why was it so much easier to talk to one Chris Colfer than say, Joey or Brent or Mia? Logically speaking, it never made any sense. But why question it? Darren's thoughts then guiltily fleeted to the only other person who was able to break down any possible walls he could put up around himself…

Okay, so twelve years of knowing Chelsea could never compare to the time he had spent with any of his friends. But Chelsea was also his soulmate. Five seconds into meeting her for the first time, and he was already comfortable with her. There was no pressure, no rush, no pretense. No matter how everyone else tried to fill in that gaping hole in his heart, not one of his friends, or anybody else for that matter, would ever match that weirdly-shaped missing puzzle piece.

So how exactly was it possible that a certain relative stranger was managing to do something no one else in Darren's life could? How was this beautiful, azure-eyed young man managing, bringing Darren out of the thick, cramped and dark shell he had knowingly driven himself into since Chelsea's death?

Darren quietly leaned back in his seat and watched the other actor sitting across him in earnest. He knew Chris was saying something to him, but he couldn't be bothered to hear it. His mind was away…

No, it never made any sense. Darren knew that there should be that awkward transition from being complete strangers, to acquaintances, to friends… but meeting Chris Colfer just had none of that. The moment he had presented the younger actor with that enormous arrangement of sunflowers, the moment their eyes locked and the way their fingers brushed with hardly a touch –everything just felt right. Since then, Darren had never really been able to recover. It was just as if that one moment turned the switch of the life he had put on hold, back on.

True, this today, was the first time that the two of them had spent time exclusively with each other after their first encounter, but still, the transition was just seamless –as if these coffee 'dates' were something that had been going on for years.

"Darren?" Chris was waving his hand in front of Darren's face, looking amused. "You zoned out for a moment there. I was asking if you've seen your copy of the script yet. I know it would still be a while before we start filming our scenes together, but –"

"The staircase," Darren beamed. "Awesome way to meet."

"Not too cliché for your sensibilities?" Chris cocked an eyebrow.

"Are you kidding me?" Darren finished the rest of his rapidly-cooling coffee in one big gulp. "It's romantic and grand and really sweet." Chris giggled at the awed and misty-eyes expression on the older actor's face.

"Never had you pegged for the hopeless romantic type."

"Hey, I resent that," Darren pouted. "Most people think I'm a goofball, but in reality –"

"Let me guess," Chris tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You're the guy that does the candle-lit dinners, stargazing and rose petals? "

"Guilty as charged," Darren grinned, holding both his hands up in mock-surrender. "My friend Joey makes fun of my Disney fixation. He thinks I'm being childish, believing in epic romances and happy endings."

"Hey, we all have to believe something, right?" Chris said sympathetically. "I admire people who can still dream during these trying times, in a world driven by materialism and hindered by pessimism."

"A cynic?" Darren eyed Chris appraisingly. "I would never peg you for one. You –when I see you, you always seem so… positive." Chris met his observation with a meaningful sigh.

"I'm a firm believer in the innate goodness of man. But when all your life, you've been getting nothing but crap from most people, it tends to knock off your rose-colored glasses." He set his cup down and began toying with the patterns on the table cloth.

"You're a wonderful person, Chris," Darren told him, light golden eyes arresting Chris' baby blue ones, his larger hands finding Chris' smaller ones and grasping them. 'It doesn't take a lifetime to figure that out. I mean, I have astigmatism and I found that out five seconds into meeting you." Darren gave Chris' hands a gentle squeeze. "Those people need prescription lenses really bad if they don't see that."

Their joined appendages shouldn't have bothered Chris that much. They were involved in much more intimate positions just a while ago in Zach's Boot Camp, but for some reason, this moment right here felt… different. Chris bit his lips, surreptitiously taking deep breaths to will away the flush that he was sure was already on his face. He was almost sure that they were not exactly talking about bad eyesight.

"I remember what a wise man once told me, flattery will get you anywhere." Slowly, ever so gently, he pried his shaky hands out of Darren's grasp before he could do something that would embarrass himself later. "And I may not be much of a cynic any longer. "His gaze met the honey orbs hovering not a couple of feet away. Chris felt the sincerity of his own words… that maybe, just maybe, this was indeed really happening.

Darren, for his part, was feeling that warm rush of comfort and familiarity… like that scene had been written long before the existence of the stars. That small voice of doubt and uncertainty at the back of his mind was quickly becoming fainter now. When Joey had told him that all he needed was a change of pace, he really didn't believe him. He really did not think that doing a TV show was the solution, the sought-after cure he was looking for to at least ease the pain Chelsea's death had left in his soul…

So yeah, at one point, he had become a cynic, like Chris, too. He had lost his way, his spark, his drive…

But now, as he looked at Chris, for some reason, something told him that he may have just gotten the nudge he needed to get back.

Was it really that easy? He wasn't sure. Did it make any sense?

Not at all…

But did it feel right? At that moment, Darren was certain that there was only one answer to that question.

Hell, yes.

Chris was telling Darren about something trivial as the older actor found himself drifting away once more.

In his heart, mind and soul, he had once believed that Chelsea was his one and only, his always and forever, his eternity…

But being here, right now, reliving that inexplicable connection, that effortless ease he had with her with another person…

' _ **Life isn't all or nothing, that is why there are second chances…'**_

Second chances? Was it possible to meet your One True Love twice in a lifetime?

Darren remembered when he had auditioned for Glee the first time, how Chelsea had wanted him to grab the opportunity, only for him to lose both the role and her, almost at the same time.

And now, here he was at it again. He got Blaine. He got his second chance. He stole a glance at Chris, who was talking animatedly.

Was Chris a part of his second chance too?

"Earth to Darren Criss," the younger actor was yet again waving his hands in front of Darren. "You're really spaced-out today"

"Did you know I was almost cast as Jesse St. James in Season 1?"

"Really?" Chris asked, looking extremely surprised. "Jesse? How –what –why –"

"Blaine is my second chance," Darren declared, owning his words with a smile. "I guess it the first one doesn't work out, there's always another chance, a second chance, right?" Chris looked confused for a moment, before he too, broke into a smile.

"I guess… I guess you're right."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

-END OF CHAPTER 3-

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**End A/N** _ **:**_ It was a 'talky' chapter. Sorry. Had to happen. I had to give you guys a peak into Darren's POV of meeting Chris to establish his mindset for the next chapters. So, feedback? Up Next:  **Chapter 4: Rolling–** Chris gets to know more about Chelsea's purpose and MORE CRISSCOLFER ADORABLENESS! Might I tempt you with a shirtless Darren Criss? LOL Here's a sneak peak:

**010101010101010101010101010101**

(AN EXCERPT FROM  **CHAPTER FOUR: ROLLING** )

"He's a sweet guy," Heather told him, gesturing towards the laughing, dancing pair of Darren and Naya. Chris followed her line of sight.

"That he is," he agreed. "That he is."

"He likes you," heather continued on. "He's dancing with Naya but he keeps on looking at you."

Chris froze in his steps. He took a chance and glanced over his shoulder. Darren was indeed looking over at him and Heather, an easy smile on his face…

-:-

"Hey Chris?" Daren called out from behind the closed stall.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry, I can't believe I was asking you out on a date in my towel. I sort of got distracted when I saw you were about to leave and in my rush –"

"Date?" Chris blurted out before he could stop himself.

-:-

Chelsea's voice wavered, but she trudged on.

"I have to let go –of you –of us. I don't know how to even begin, but –" A sad smile crossed her lips. "You deserve to get your happy ending. So does Chris. Let him in, will you? Don't worry about me." She then replaced the frame on the table, careful not to disturb the surrounding dust and stood up.

**010101010101010101010101010101**


	5. Rolling

**Chapter 4: Rolling**

" _You can't be afraid of the future(…). Because that is the only thing we can still control."_

_-:-_

**(May 2010 –Los Angeles, California)**

Chris kicked his boots and shrugged his jacket off. He got home a couple of hours before dinner, so his mom sent him upstairs to clean up first before they ate. He was about to unbutton his jeans when Chelsea appeared right behind him, smirking.

"God –Chelsea! I'm –can't you see –you can't just come in here like that!" Chris was beet red, quickly redoing his pants. His guide raised an eyebrow.

"I did warn you earlier, remember? And it's really nothing I haven't seen before." She then casually planted herself by the foot of his bed and crossed her legs. Chris rolled his eyes. "Sometimes it's hard to believe that you're an angel."

"I don't think that's a compliment, but I'll take it as one." The raven-haired woman looked at him expectantly. "So, how was it?"

"How was what?" Chris threw the question right back. "You seem to see everything anyway… know everything." He took a seat by the desk in his room, leaning back and crossing his arms defiantly. Chelsea sighed. "I see things, but that is different from knowing things." She told Chris softly. "For one, I can see that your mom is making veggie lasagna for dinner, but I don't know what it tastes like. I can see your next-door neighbors arguing from here, but I don't know what they're fighting about." A wistful expression crossed her features next. "I can see your facial expression, talking to Darren, but I don't necessarily know what it means."

Chris thought he heard a tiny bit of resentment in her tone, but he decided to again file it away for future reference. "I don't know what exactly it is that you want to happen between him and me. So he's my soulmate, then what? Are you expecting us to just all of a sudden fall in love and stuff? So maybe, yeah, there's this pull I'm feeling whenever I'm with him, I mean, he's a great guy, funny and attractive… But we don't even know a thing about each other, you know, like in-depth stuff? And is he even interested in guys? Does he even believe in soulmates? Does he even know that I am his? Does he even remotely feel the same way that I do? There are a lot of things that I have no idea about!" Chris' tone rose with every question. He was pretty sure Chelsea had done a bit of guide magic to sound-proof his room or else his mom would've already barged in to see why he was almost screaming bloody murder. Chris took a deep breath to try and calm himself down, before proceeding. "Do you see the problem here? So maybe, yeah, we can be friends –even more, eventually. But that thing takes years. Are you seriously telling me that you'll be here until that happens? Because that –is crazy. Not even a supernatural guide can just make two people come together and fall in love instantaneously!"

"Stop." Chelsea stood up and held up one hand, her face stern. "Stop right there. You think too much. You assume a lot of things. That's the problem. I'm not here to make anybody fall in love, because not even the guys up there cannot do that. This is not a speed-dating service, okay? I thought it was already clear to you. I'm here to help you help Darren get over his first love and move on in his life." She began to pace the length of Chris' room. "And your unique position as his soulmate gives you the advantage of being able to easily breakdown his walls. Now, whether or not you fall in love with him, or he with you –" Chelsea paused, as if reluctant to continue. "Let's get this straightened out, right here, right now. One, you are not pressured to fall in love with anyone. True, most soulmates end up being romantically involved, but it has to be a conscious choice. True, there are certain 'written-in-the-stars' romances, but that is only permitted to happen when both parties believe in the concept in the first place. There is a free will component, even in predestiny. Soulmates can co-exist platonically, believe it or not. So if you are falling for Darren –" A hesitant sigh escaped the guide's lips. "It is not anyone else's fault –"

"What about the inexplicable pull I feel towards him?" Chris asked in a small voice. "How do you explain that?" To his surprise, Chelsea laughed.

"Have you ever fallen in love? I mean, really fallen in love?"

"I liked this guy once," Chris frowned but it did not come close as to feeling this way –"

"Of course it wouldn't," said Chelsea. "I'd bet my passport to the Third Circle that it was nothing but physical attraction. Falling in love is a melding of all sorts of things; physical attraction, emotional compatibility, a meeting of minds. When all of that come together in a single, perfect moment, that's the only time you would feel IT. Now the fact that you are soulmates just makes it easier for that to happen to the both of you. Hence, I use the term 'advantage.' You can fall in love with someone who isn't meant for you. Now, while that may not always end in a disaster, there will always be that nagging feeling of incompleteness, a void that cannot be fulfilled by anyone else other than your soulmate."

"So, you're saying…"

"You have a choice. Darren has a choice." Chelsea finished for Chris. "You could've ignored me and turned me away the first time we've met, but you didn't. That in itself is a choice. I know the idea of me being around annoys you, but you're still talking to me, In a way, you're hoping that you'll get something out of this. You get that nudge because deep within you is that bond you share with Darren. My mission has nothing to do with baby-sitting you and any budding romance you might find yourself in. I was sent to let you know that there's someone out there for you, make you believe that, and guide you in helping that someone move on in his life. Now how it happens, it's entirely up to you. Once all of that's done, I'll be out of your hair faster than you can say 'Cheerio.'" She glanced at a properly chastised-looking Chris. "So bear with me, okay? I don't like meddling with lives too, but it's the only way I'll earn my wings and stuff." She shook her head. "Look, I probably come off as vulgar and crass to you, but I do have a non-beating heart. This mission is more important to me than my wings, if I'm being honest. I can't mess this up." Silence met the raven-haired woman's words. She moved towards the lone window in Chris' room and sat on the sill. Her eyes then traveled until they met the rapidly-darkening sky outside. "Your mom's lasagna is almost ready –"

"I'm sorry," Chris mumbled apologetically, looking down at his hands on his lap. "I may not know your reasons, but I do know you are trying to help. And you may not be allowed to tell me why, but I can tell this is difficult for you. I just –" He sighed. "I wish you can tell me more. I mean, like, how do I help Darren move on? You said there's more to him than meets the eye. If he's broken, then he's doing a good job of hiding it." Chelsea glanced at Chris for a second, before resuming her observation of the sky outside. The last rays of the late afternoon sun were finally disappearing.

"You have the key to his heart. Use it."

A loud 'DING' from the kitchen timer downstairs ripped through that meaningful pronouncement. Chelsea stood up from her perch. Chris followed her movements with keen eyes. Chelsea noticed this and gave him a smile.

"Stop. Thinking. Just let it happen." She turned to leave, but Chris stopped her.

"Two out of three," Chris said. Chelsea looked at him expectantly. Chris smiled in return.

"Your mission goals. You've completed 2 out of 3—you've let me know –and –and I believe you."

Chelsea strode towards Chris and enveloped him in a hug. As with before, the touch was ice cold, but it warmed Chris' core to no end. He returned the embrace, surprised that she felt rather solid against his arms.

"One more to go."

Chelsea pulled away with an almost forlorn look on her face. "I wish I could tell you it would be easy, but it won't be."

"That's what I have you for then, right? To guide me through it all?" Chris asked. "You'll tell me if I'm making things better or worse." Chelsea smirked. "I thought having me around annoys you. Now you want me to be your conscience?" She teased. Chris rolled his eyes, trying to hide an amused grin. "Like you said, I could've turned you away, but I didn't –and I won't. And yes, I choose to help you, help me, help Darren. So I guess since we'll be stuck together until that happens, might as well cooperate, right?" He retorted cheekily. Chelsea pinched his cheeks.

"You are too adorable, you know? Kind of like an annoying little brother –I've always wanted one." She winked at a scowling Chris who was rubbing his face. "If you need me, call, okay? If I don't hear from you anytime soon, I'll check back with you in three days." And with a final wave, she left once more.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

"So, how was your first official day at work?" Joey asked as he entered Darren's L.A. studio apartment without preamble. The curly-haired actor glared at him from behind his piano.

"There is such a thing called 'knocking' Richter. Try it sometimes. And it went well, mom. Thanks for asking."

Joey rolled his eyes and plopped down on the sofa dotting the middle of the compact living space. Darren resumed tinkering with the sheet music on his piano. Joey gave his friend a once-over.

"You look happy."

Darren looked up from what he was doing and cocked a triangular eyebrow. "What makes you say that? I've always looked like this."

"Something's… different." Joey mused out loud. "You seem more –I don't know –relaxed? Your eyebrows aren't perpetually scrunched together, your shoulders are less tensed, your lips aren't pursed like a horse's –oh look! You actually shaved this time! Where's my buddy the caveman?"

"Hey –"

"You get offended when I criticize you," Joey continued on, ignoring Darren's protest. "It's like –you're back to the old you. You know? Before everything happened –"

"I don't know what you are talking about," Darren huffed. "I'm still the same old pathetic me."

"No, you're not. And you know it." Joey insisted. "You're better now than you were a month ago. I don't know what changed, but whatever it is, it's good man. Don't fight it. Embrace it –"

"I don't know, Joey." Darren looked skeptical. He poised his hands over the ebony and ivory keys. "I –I'm confused. For a while, everything was so hard, then suddenly –" He played a few notes. A short, peppy melody sounded. Darren stopped. "Suddenly it feels as if everything is finally falling into place effortlessly. It shouldn't be this easy, should it?"

"Moving on?" Joey clarified, a thoughtful look on his face. When Darren nodded, the other man sighed. "As I've said, each to his own. What may be easy for you may be difficult for others and vice-versa. I really can't tell you how to feel. All I know is that you shouldn't feel guilty about being happy. Everyone is entitled to their own happiness and all that shit as long as you're not deliberately hurting anyone else."

Darren switched his attention back to his hands on the keyboard, his expression, contemplative. He moved his fingers again. A somber moody melody played. After a few measures, he stopped.

"I'm scared."

"Of what?" Joey looked up from his spot on Darren's sofa. "Of being happy?"

"Of –of forgetting, I guess," the amber-eyed man admitted. "I feel like I'm betraying Chelsea's memory…"

"Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?" Joey challenged him. "Do you really think that Chelsea's somewhere out there pining for you because you're starting to finally move on?" He scoffed. "You may know her better than the rest of us, but I'm telling you right now that you're wrong if you think of her that way. She'd want you to move on, not wallow in the depths of your despair."

"Just –how can you tell that?" Darren's voice took on a slight quiver. "We were together for so long. Would she really want me to just forget her like that?"

"You're blinded by what you think you should feel instead of focusing on what you do actually feel." Joey pointed out. "Just think. If the positions were reversed, wouldn't you want her to be happy too? Even without you?"

"I –you're –you're right." Darren conceded with a small voice. Joey stood up from his seat and moved behind Darren. He clapped his friend on the shoulder. "You can't be afraid of the future, man. Because that is the only thing we can still control. No one's rushing you. Just go with what feels right and take it from there. Stop thinking so much. It contributes too much to global warming, you know, melted ice caps and climate change –"

"When did you ever get so smart, huh, Richter?" Darren swatted his friend's hand away, a smile finally forming on his lips. Joey feigned looking offended.

"I've always been the smart one. You guys just don't know how to appreciate it." He then mirrored Darren's grin. "Remember, baby steps is okay."

"Yes, Mom." Darren gave him a mock salute. Joey rolled his eyes once more before eventually breaking out into another grin, "So, are you ever going to tell me who this person is?"

"Huh? Who is who?" Darren looked genuinely confused. Joey wiggled his eyebrows in response. "Oh come on, I know you too well for you to play coy with me, Criss. Who's the one making you happy?"

"I still don't know what you're talking about," Darren murmured, his face going red. Joey looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"Hah! I knew it! Come on, man. Don't be shy now! I just need the name of the person I sell my soul to in eternal gratitude for resurrecting you. Come on, I won't judge. Is she from Glee? She is, isn't she? I knew it! I told you, you just needed a change of –"

"No," said Darren, biting his lip. Joey stopped, looking puzzled.

"No –what? She's not from Glee?"

Darren shook his head full of dark curls. "No, she is from Glee –I mean no, I mean she's –" he took a deep breath before continuing on. "She –is not a she. It's actually a HE." The amber-eyed actor looked at his friend, worry evident in his tone. But when Joey merely shrugged, he relaxed.

"So, who's the guy then?" Joey egged him on. "I'd build him a shrine and name my firstborn after him."

"You're –you're okay with this?" Darren clarified. "I mean –it doesn't bother you?"

"You're kidding me, right?" Joey raised an eyebrow. "Darren Everett Criss, don't you ever insinuate that I harbor issues with the possibility of you, having romantic feelings for a guy! You wound me!"

"Joey, I –"

"Hey, listen to me," Joey interrupted him. "Whatever floats your boat, man. If this guy makes you happy, I'm all for it. Love's love and all that jazz. Now –"

"I'm not even sure if it's already –you know –love," Darren admitted. "I mean it's too early to say, I guess. I've just met him about a month ago. But –" he sighed. "Everything just felt right the very first time. And I know you don't believe in serendipity, but when I first saw him –"

"Okay, you're gushing." Joey called him out, grinning manically. "At least we know you officially have a huge crush on this dude. Like I said, just let it happen. Whether this it it or not, I am all for you being happy, Dare. Now stop stalling and spill –who is this guy?"

**010101010101010101010101010101**

Day 2 of the Zach Woodlee Dance Boot Camp from Hell had the Glee Cast paired up for a choreographed routine that needed one male and one female: Lea immediately grabbed Cory's hand. Amber walked up to Mark. Dianna was paired with Chord, Kevin with Jenna and Harry with Ashley. Chris eyed Darren, who smiled at him before approaching Naya. Chris found himself accosted by Heather.

"Switch?" She asked him with a smile. Chris nodded and took her hand as they slipped into their routine.

"He's a sweet guy," Heather told him, gesturing towards the laughing, dancing pair of Darren and Naya. Chris followed her line of sight. "That he is, that he is."

"He likes you," Heather continued on. "He's dancing with Naya but he keeps on looking at you." Chris froze in his steps. He took a chance and glanced over his shoulder. Darren was indeed looking over at him and Heather, an easy smile on his face. The blue-eyed actor resumed holding his blonde partner's hands and continued on with their routine. Heather gave him a knowing smirk.

"Aww, and you like him back! Don't worry, he's safe with Naya. She said he's too dorky for her tastes."

"I'm not worried," Chris tried to reason out, the heat creeping up his cheeks nonetheless. "He can dance with whomever. And he's probably looking over here because I dance funnily." Heather looked at him funny before sighing happily.

"You convince yourself that, Chris. But I call what I see. You two would make a cute couple."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**(May 2010 –Somewhere Up There)**

Heather's sentiments were echoed somewhere, where everything was bright and airy. A pair of blue eyes watched the on-goings of Zach Woodlee's Boot Camp in a large basin-like ceramic dish filled with a silvery liquid that upon closer inspection, was just a bit more viscous than water.

Gabriel sighed as his fingers dipped into the image of Chris looking at Darren, and the vision blinked off.

"How is your pet project?" A firm voice cut right through the Head Archangel's thoughts. Gabriel turned to face the newcomer. His eyes were met by a vision of a man who appeared to be in his early 30's, with sandy brown hair and evergreen eyes. His face looked stern and he had his hands clasped tightly behind his back.

"Peter," Gabriel nodded at the Gate Keeper. "It is progressing well."

"Indeed?" Peter's voice bled skepticism. "That is not what I heard from Uriel."

"How can he possibly know anything about Chelsea's mission?" Gabriel frowned. "She is my protégé, not Uriel's. And to my knowledge, she's doing rather well –considering how difficult the predicament he has been placed in." There was a mild accusatory tone in the archangel's words that did not go amiss to Peter. The man's gaze hardened.

"Are you accusing me of giving her a hard task on purpose?" There was an edge in his query. Gabriel met the sharp glare with a resigned look on his face. "Of course not. I just don't see why you seem to dislike her."

"You mean aside from the fact that she is a threat to our established norm?"

"I have no idea –"

"Oh come on, Gabriel," Peter scoffed. "Do not mistake me for a fool. I see the unnecessary attention this –this woman –warrants from you. Do not for one second think, that this will be condoned. You may outrank me, but I still hold personal audience with the Trinity more often than you. And I am telling you right now that any feelings you may harbor for your charge –"

"Such a malicious mind you possess, Peter." Gabriel retorted calmly. "I am aware of our laws. After all, were you not a victim of such rule? Why, I remember Lucifer and yourself –"

"Enough," Peter stiffened visibly. "Just see to it that you keep your charge in line. If she fails, there would be no more second chances." With that, the Gate Keeper turned on his heel and stormed away. Gabriel followed Peter's retreating form with worried blue eyes. He let out a deep breath he was unconsciously holding and uttered a silent prayer for the young woman he had grown fond of over the last year.

"I know you can do it, Chelsea." The Head Archangel whispered to himself. "It will be difficult, but mark my words: I will see to it that you endure. You'll get through this, I promise."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**(May 2010 –Detroit, Michigan)**

At the very same time that Gabriel had uttered his silent prayer, a soft smile graced the female guide's lips. Her fingers brushed against the sunshiny yellow walls of the place that she had once called home for over a year.

Chelsea remembered the very day that she and Darren had painted those walls. The rooms looked exactly like she had last seen it, a little over a year ago. No furniture was moved out of place. Everything was covered by a thick layer of dust.

The raven-haired woman entered the largest room in that space and let out a deep sigh. An unmade bed sat in the middle, it's white Egyptian cotton sheets bunched up on the left side. Chelsea approached the less messy side and gently sat on the edge. She could almost still make out the tears staining the pillow on that side of the bed as her gaze fell onto it. A inexplicable feeling of guilt washed up her insides. She forced her dark eyes to move from that spot and onto the picture frame that was on the bedside table. It was the only thing in the whole apartment that was not completely obscured by inches of dust aside from the bed.

A couple of smiling faces looked at her from behind the glass frame: A curly-haired, honey eyed young man grinned at the camera, not at all fazed by the bright yellow streak of paint on his nose; Beside him, a raven-haired, onyx-eyed young woman had one hand behind the man, forming bunny ears with her fingers and laughing, not minding the blotch of white paint on her chin. Chelsea picked up the photograph and traced the happy faces.

"I had my chance. And it was the happiest point in my life. But now, you have to move on, okay? You have to go forward –and be happy. And for that to happen, you have to let go." Her voice almost wavered, but she trudged on. "I have to let go –of you –of us. I don't know how to even begin, but –" A sad smile, filled with longing and heartbreak crossed her lips. "You –you deserve to get your happy ending. So does Chris. Let him in, will you? Don't worry about me. Gab's been taking good care of me –would you believe that? I can be an angel soon… maybe I can finally be…" She then replaced the frame on the table, careful not to disturb the surrounding dust and stood up.

"I'll always be around. I'll always love you –that will never change. I just wish I could tell you that, one last time before –" She took one last look at the rumpled sheets.

"Before you forget me."

With those words, Chelsea left Detroit, nevermore to return to that particular apartment.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

Day 2 of the Boot Camp ended in the same manner as the previous day did, with the muscles in Chris' whole body protesting with every move that he made. The warm shower he took right after the last routine that he and the rest of the cast did, only helping a little bit. He winced while he bent over to tie the laces of his vintage white Keds. Then, after checking his reflection in the mirror of the studio's male shower rooms, he picked up the gym bag he had left on one of the benches. He was about to leave when a familiar voice halted his steps from behind.

"Hey Chris, wait up!" Chris had to work doubly-hard to stop the surprised gasp from escaping his lips when he had turned around. His azure eyes were immediately accosted by a vision of one curly-haired, amber-eyed, grinning Darren Criss. But it wasn't that that made Chris want to take out his eyeballs, polish them on his shirt, and put them back on.

No, it was the glistening beads of water coursing down the broad planes of the older actor's bare chest. Or perhaps the white terry cloth towel casually wrapped around said actor's waist, one corner of which, was tucked haphazardly on one side, causing the material to bunch and expose a tiny bit of the man's hip bone…

Okay, it was both. Chris tried to take the deepest breath he could muster and gripped the strap of his bag tightly for support. "Hey," he smiled, addressing the gorgeous modern-day Greek God in front of him. The shower room was hot from the steam coming from the stalls, but Chris' face was already hot enough as it is. He shifted his bag until it surreptitiously covered the front of his light-blue slim-cut jeans. Damn the remnants of his teenage hormones! "What's up?"

Darren approached, either purposely ignoring the flushed look of discomfort on his younger co-actor's face, or just plain oblivious to the effect that his scantily-clad form had on the average human being. Chris was sure that his heart would explode had Darren come closer than a couple of feet away, which thankfully, he didn't.

"I missed you," the still fresh-from-the-shower man said simply.

"I –what?" Chris did not bother to hide his astonishment this time.

"Yeah," Darren admitted, with an almost-embarrassed grin. "I mean, Naya was a great dancer and…" He let his sentence trail off as he rubbed the back of his neck. Chris had to bite his lip, seeing the way those toned muscles shift at the sudden movement.  _'Seriously, did this man not know what he's doing to my sanity?'_  he thought ruefully. Suddenly, his slim pants were too impossibly tight. Chris cleared his throat in an attempt to recover himself.

"You miss my mediocre dancing skills?" He asked, his tone light.

"What? No!" It was Darren's turn to get flustered. "That's not what I meant, not at all –I mean, it's just she's not you and I did miss us talking and since yesterday I –"

"Stop," Chris could not help himself but laugh. "You're rambling. I know what you meant, I was only kidding you. God, you're adorable when you get flustered –" and those words were out of the azure-eyed man's mouth before he knew it. Chris froze as soon as he had realized what he had just said –out loud. The effect of it on Darren however, couldn't be any more different: his honey eyes positively glowed.

"Why, thank you. I think you're adorable too –quite, actually." He smirked. The return compliment brought Chris back to reality. He rolled his eyes. "If you get cocky because of what I said, I'll step on your toes the next time we're paired up." Darren laughed.

"Never. So, you'd want to get coffee again? I mean, if you've nowhere else to go to –not that I'd ever insinuate that you didn't, because I mean if you did have plans –"

"Okay," Chris chuckled. "Now, you're doing it on purpose. Stop rambling. Yes to coffee. And no, I don't have other plans. I usually don't go out after work, but I'll make an exception of you."

"Really?" Darren asked, suddenly looking very much liked a five-year old on sugar high. "Aww… thanks Chris."

"One favor though,"

"What's that?" Darren cocked an eyebrow. Chris smirked.

"Put a shirt on. I hardly doubt they'd let you order looking like that. Well, they might, depending –but I really don't wanna take our chances."

Darren glanced down himself and turned impossibly red.

"Oh –right –right –crap –" he quickly turned away from Chris. "God –this is too embarrassing! I can't believe I forgot –" the older actor then rushed behind one of the shower stalls as Chris let out an amused sigh and fanned himself. Darren was just too amusing.

"Hey Chris?" Darren called out from behind the closed stall.

"Yeah?"

"Sorry. I can't believe I was asking you out in my towel. I sort of got distracted when I saw you were about to leave and in my rush – I –I would totally understand if you'd want to back out on this date if –"

Wait.

Date?

"Date?" Chris blurted out before he could stop himself. Darren emerged, fully clothed in a black fitted v-neck t-shirt and tight dark jeans. His curls were still damp from the shower.

"Uh, yeah?" Darren tossed the towel he had on a while ago towards one of the hampers provided. "Am I too forward or something? I mean, I know you went out yesterday with me as friends –slash –co-workers, but –God, I freaked you out, didn't I? I'm sorry –if I overstepped any boundaries, but –"

Chris shook his head as he placed a finger across Darren's lips.

"Just shut up, Criss. A little flash of skin won't change my mind. Now let's go before I do change my mind from lack of caffeine in my system." He then turned on his heel, missing the twinkle in Darren's eyes as amber irises followed Chris departure.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

-END OF CHAPTER 4-

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**End A/N:** By the way, if you were wondering how Darren looked in the 'picture frame scene' with Chelsea, He looked as he did on the cover of his EP,  **Human**. Joey in this story is my own conscience. Haha. I hope you liked the half-naked Darren. Will there be more? We'll see. Tell me in a review what you think and what else you want to read about: characters, songs, scenes… anything. Suggestions are most welcome! Up Next: **Chapter 5: Lights–** Darren and Chris grow closer… only to be separated by drama? Here's a sneak peak:

**010101010101010101010101010101**

(AN EXCERPT FROM  **CHAPTER FIVE: LIGHTS** )

"You're such a dork." Chris said, playfully rolling his eyes. "And for your information, I don't need saving. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much."

"So you're the prince who slays his own dragons?" Darren asked with an amused smile. Chris shrugged.

"Well, somebody has to. Not everyone gets their own knight-in-shinning-armor."

Daren appraised him with keen eyes. "I know you can manage on your own but, if you ever get tired, you can call me in as a sub. I like kicking dragon-ass. Just not Hungarian Horntails. Those are vicious." The older actor winked. "And I do make a goo knight. I played Lancelot once in a local production. Apparently, we have the same hair."

"I'll remember that."

-:-

"Dare? I- I'm sorry," Chris gestured to the cello. "I –I did not know how –what happened! I swear I didn't know how, I mean, I picked it up and –" At Darren's frigidly still form, Chris sighed dejectedly. "Look, I'll just put it back. I'm sorry –"

"Get out."

**010101010101010101010101010101**


	6. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Am I making sense with this story? Let me know, okay?I really don't want to waste all of our time. Song is "I'm Here" –another original. Instead of wondering how the thing sounds like, go listen to Daylight by Maroon 5 –it's thematically the same.
> 
> P.S. Guys, if you happen to stumble upon this story HERE and would like to read it on another archiving site, let me know. I am willing to upload elsewhere if you think this story would fare better over there. I currently have this on FFNet, just because it has been what I've been using since time immemorial. PM me, or leave a review.
> 
> Legend: "Dialogue/ Speech" 'Thoughts' Flashback Notes/Lyrics

**Chapter 5: Lights**

" _You cannot blame a person for something that happens that you yourself cannot control."_

_-:-_

**(June 2010 –Los Angeles, California)**

Coffee quickly became a regular thing for Chris and Darren. Even after Zach's Boot Camp had ended, the two would regularly meet up every couple of days or so when their schedules would permit. Darren would usually pick Chris up from the latter's house and drive them to the nearest Starbucks. Whenever the weather allowed it, they would take their java to go. Sometimes they would end up at a nearby exclusive park in Chris' neighborhood, or if not, they would just be sitting inside Darren's car (Chris wasn't allowed to drive again just yet.)

Neither questioned the simple ease and familiarity of the routine –not that either of them ever had the urge to do so co-workers, to friends, to sort-of dating, just seemed… organic.

"Hey, I'm working on this song. Want to hear it?" Darren began as he handed Chris his mocha. They were headed towards their usual spot at the park. Darren had his guitar strapped behind his back.

"Is this the one you wrote about Severus Snape?" Chris asked, taking a sip of his iced coffee. It was too warm for his usual order. "I told you, you have to decrease the number of times you use the word 'nose' on that one."

"God , no." Darren chuckled. "I gave up on that a long time ago, two days ago to be exact." They had reached 'their' bench. "This is something I was thinking of putting in a full album –it was too late to add it to my EP. I want your honest, although sometimes, harsh opinion on my music-writing ability."

Chris sat and looked at the older man expectantly. "Okay, let's hear it." Darren set his cup of frapuccino down next to Chris and positioned his guitar. He cleared his throat once before beginning to sing:

**So he left you crying in the rain**

**He made you miss your aeroplane**

**But it really doesn't matter**

**Co'z I am here**

The opening verse was catchy and up-beat, typical of Darren's songs of late. And the way the amber-eyed man engaged his audience, (in this case, Chris,) with his smooth baritone and charming smile, was just something else. Whenever Darren did these impromptu performances, it would always make Chris feel as if the older actor was singing for him and him alone.

**So the world turned upside down**

**He turned your smile into a frown**

**But it really doesn't matter**

**Co'z I am here**

Chris found himself tapping his foot to the chorus.

**Oh you don't have to worry**

**Your heart can fins a home with me**

**You don't have to be alone**

**Co'z I am here**

**Baby you don't need to hate him**

**I can take all the hurt and turn**

**Every heartbreak into a romance**

**I am here, I am here**

Darren ended up dancing (which actually just involved a lot of jumping and prancing and hip swings and head bangs) to the beat of the song as he strummed continuously. Chris watched the curly-haired man in amusement as the latter tried to keep singing and dancing and playing his guitar all at the same time. As Darren came to the next verse, a small crowd had already gathered around the two actors.

**So you feel like you can't move on**

**He took away the world you know**

**But I'll give you more than he could**

**So never fear…**

**-.-**

**Oh you don't have to worry**

**Your heart can find a home with me**

**And you'll never be alone**

**Co'z I am here**

**Baby you don't need to hate him**

**Give me all of your hurt and I'll turn**

**Every heartache to Ever After**

**Never fear, I am here**

By the time the bridge came up, Darren had managed to get Chris up on his feet, dancing, to the delight of the gathered crowd.

**When the colors turn to fade away**

**And the lines blur out in the sand**

**You have my hand to hold on to**

**I'll pick you up when the world lets you down**

**-.-**

**So baby, don't you worry**

**Your heart will find a home with me**

**Oh you'll never be alone**

**Co'z I am here**

**Oh you can just forget him**

**Forget all the hurt and turn**

**All that pain to epic romance**

**With me here, Co'z I am here**

**I'm here…**

As Darren finished his song, he (and Chris) had almost half of the park's attention. An enthusiastic applause followed suit. The amber-eyed man took in the sight of the crowd and with an embarrassed grin, dutifully bowed to their adulations. Nevertheless, if her were to be honest, there was only one reaction he sought to ascertain.

"Well, I guess you got your feedback," A smiling Chris said as he reclaimed his seat on the bench. Their audience was quickly dissipating. Darren ran a hand through his damp curls.

"Seems that they liked it," he said, gesturing to the crowd. "But I'd really like to know what you personally think of it, Chris." Darren set his guitar down and joined Chris on the bench. Chris gave him an appraising look in return.

"What inspired it? The lyrics, I mean." Darren took a sip of his coffee and sighed.

"I used to –have a lyricist," he admitted sheepishly, his eyes getting a faraway look.

"You mean those song's you'd let me listen to –"

"My –friend. She wrote most of it in college. I don't know, really. When I write music, it just comes naturally to me, but words –it's a whole different story. I mean, I write my own lyrics too, but –" Darren's tone was neutral, uncaring. But Chris knew enough of the man to pick up the subtle hesitation in it.

" _ **You have the key to his heart, use it."**_

Chris crossed his fingers. "Does your friend –does she write for you still?" Darren met his gaze briefly before staring across the horizon. The sun was about to set soon, and Chris could see its fiery tinges mirrored in the amber irises, making it look even more like liquid gold.

"No, not anymore," said Darren softly, almost like he didn't want anyone but himself to hear his own words. "She died a little over a year ago –" the older actor shook his head. Then, with a forced, rehearsed smile, he turned to Chris. "This is one of my few attempts to make do without her."

If Chris noticed the silent plea in Darren's voice to change the topic, he decided to ignore it.

"She died –how?"

Three words. It was all it took for Darren to stiffen. He crushed the empty cup in his hands and stood up. "Hey, um, there's this thing that I just remembered I had to do and…"

And Chris knew at that point that he had gone too far. With a resigned sigh, he stood up and gave Darren a small smile of understanding. "See you at the recording studio tomorrow?"

"Um, yeah. Um don't you want me to drive you home though?" Darren asked uncertainly, looking both a little lost and broken. Chris had nevermore wanted to just take the older man in his arms and make him right again. But the younger actor knew that he had to take his time with this, no matter how much he had wanted to do so otherwise.

"Nah," Chris shook his head. "I'll walk. All this coffee and cream and syrup is getting to my hips." And just like that, with that quip, Darren was chuckling lightheartedly again, Chris' simple words momentarily soothing his still evidently broken soul.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

Chris sighed as he locked his bedroom door behind him. It had been a long day. He was still ambivalent on how to proceed with his 'relationship' with Darren. It seemed that the more he tried to get the man to open up to him, the less it seemed that he made any semblance of progress. On the surface, the amber-eyed man was all smiles and sunshine. But the deeper Chris gets into him, the more complicated his layers become. In the almost two months that he had personally known the older actor, all he got were bits and pieces. It was frustrating. It seemed that for every step he took, he was always pushed back by a couple of paces.

Chris jumped on his bed and buried his face in his pillow.

"If you're trying to drown yourself in feathers, you have to take the case off first –"

"Chelsea!" Chris flipped over and faced his bemused-looking guide. "Thank God, you're here! Where have you been? You told me you'd be back last week and you never showed up and I –"

"Whoa, slow down." The raven-haired smirked. "Technically, it's Gabriel you have to thank for me, not the Boss. And I missed you too." She sat beside Chris' prone form and ruffled his chestnut hair. "I was setting personal affairs, sorry. But in my defense, you never called for me so I thought you were okay."

"I was, mostly." Chris shrugged, smoothing the hair Chelsea had messed up. "Until today… Did you –did you see it?"

"No, I didn't" Chelsea sounded almost apologetic. "Tell me about it."

"I –" Chris sighed. "He won't open up to me."

"Darren?" Chelsea clarified. When Chris nodded somberly, her onyx eyes softened in understanding. "I'm sorry –"

"Why is it difficult?" Chris rued. "I thought I had the advantage since I am his soulmate?"

"Darren –has trouble letting go," Chelsea said softly. "Most people with two soulmates do. Most especially if they lost their first mate tragically."

"He won't tell me how she died," the azure-eyed man let out a deep breath he did not know he was holding as he toyed with the sleeve of his jacket. "I know it was her he was talking about a while ago in the park –"

"Who?" Chelsea asked curiously. Chris met her gaze.

"Her –his first love. He made me listen to this song. I asked him what inspired it –he told me about her. I know it was her, or else, why would he clam up so readily the more I asked?" Chelsea's eyes widened almost comically. "Did –did he tell you her name?"

"That's the thing!" Chris spat out exasperatedly, throwing his hands up in the air. "Whenever I ask anything –anything about her, he'd change the topic. How am I supposed to help him get over her if he refuses to talk and instead just bottles it all up inside of him? Does he not trust me?"

"I don't think that not trusting you is the problem," the female guide said softly, her fingers absently toying with the Egyptian cotton sheets of Chris' bed. Her voice was small, almost inconsequential. Chris turned to her, his eyes sharp. "Then what is it? I feel our connection, and I know he feels it too –and it's getting stronger everyday! Or else, how do you explain our rapidly growing closeness?"

"He knows he can trust you –"

"Then why doesn't he?" Chris asked his guide heatedly, sitting up. "I want to help him –I care about him –a lot! Bond or no bond –why does it have to be so frustratingly difficult to get to him? He doesn't deserve to be miserable just because he can't let go of the memory of that woman who left him broken –"

"She had no choice!" Chelsea yelled over Chris' rant. The young actor stopped in surprise. His guide never yelled at him. Chelsea's eyes were considerably bright. When she saw Chris looking at her, she calmed down and looked away.

"You cannot blame a person for something that happens that you yourself cannot control."

A long spell of silence ensued.

"I'm sorry." Chris did not even know what he was apologizing for, but at that moment, it felt like just the thing to do. "I'm at a complete loss."

"Take your time," Chelsea finally stood up, seemingly having recovered from her earlier outburst. She gave Chris a shaky smile. "I wish I could tell you what to do or how to do it, but you would have to figure out the important things on your own. You said it yourself. You care about Darren. Let that guide you towards the right path –God, I'm starting to sound like a New Age guru," she joked weakly.

"I thought you'd be helping me? You're my guide, remember? Can't you give me any idea? Influence Darren? Can't you use your 'guide magic' to make him open up?"

Chelsea gave Chris a look before sighing. "I am helping you as much as I am allowed t by being there when you need a sounding board and a voice of reason. And no, as a guide, I cannot influence someone who isn't my charge. And as for an idea… remember that it's easier to break old habits by introducing new ones. It's easier to cover a stain than remove it completely."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

The next day, Chris arrived early at the recording studio. After saying a quick 'hello' to Adam and Nikki, he decided to wait in the receiving area for his other co-stars to arrive. He'd be working today with Lea, Amber and Darren. Lea and Amber were always notoriously late, so that gave him enough time alone with the man who was quickly becoming an integral part of his life.

Chris bit his lip as he regarded Chelsea's words to him last night ruefully. Maybe she was right. Maybe he was approaching it the wrong way. Instead of making Darren forget, maybe he could get him to make new memories then? Chris' reveries were interrupted by his phone beeping. It was text message:

**From: Darren Criss :)**

**To: Chris Colfer**

**Message: Almost there. Don't get too bored without me. XOXO**

Chris could not help but smile at the 'XOXO' part.

**To: Darren Criss :)**

**From: Chris Colfer**

**Message: Get your butt in here now! I'm almost resorting to cracking open that months old copy of Vogue in the reception area and poking fun at the atrocious poses.**

Chris had barely had time to set his phone down when the reply came in:

**From: Darren Criss :)**

**To: Chris Colfer**

**Message: Resist the temptation of the dark side! Almost there!**

Chris did not try hard to stifle the chuckle as he typed out a response:

**To: Darren Criss :)**

**From: Chris Colfer**

**Message: I don't know, Dare. They're coming right at me pretty fast…**

In about ten seconds or so, Chris got another reply:

**From: Darren Criss :)**

**To: Chris Colfer**

**Message: Crap. Whatever you do, DON'T GO INTO THE LIGHT! Hold on for me, Chris!**

**P.S. Aww… you called me Dare :)**

**P.P.S. At the door in 5 seconds.**

And true enough, an out-of-breath Darren Criss emerged from beyond the beveled glass entrance door not a second later. His golden eyes immediately locked onto Chris' clear glasz ones. And the moment that it did, the curly-haired actor broke in a huge smile.

"Hey,"

Chris took in Darren's lightly disheveled appearance: the fitted dark gray t-shirt, the low-riding slim cargo pants, the purple Converse sneakers and the blue and white UMich letterman jacket he had slung over one shoulder.

"You seriously did not run coming over here now, did you?"

"I was worried," Darren grinned rather cheekily. "I was worried that it'll be too late to save you from the evils of boredom and old magazines." He moved closer and pretended to inspect Chris at arm's length. "But it seems I made it just in time."

"You're such a dork," Chris said, playfully rolling his eyes. "And for your information, I don't need saving. I can fight my own battles, thank you very much."

"So you're the prince who slays your own dragons?" Darren asked with an amused smile. Chris shrugged . "Well, somebody has to. Not everyone gets their own knight in shining armor." Darren appraised his colleague with keen eyes.

"I know you can manage well on your own but, if you ever get tired, you can call me in as a sub. I like kicking dragon ass. Just not Hungarian Horntails. Those are just downright vicious."

"You could sing them to sleep though. That worked for Harry Freaking Potter, did it not?" Chris bantered back. Darren winked at him.

"True. And as far as knights go, I can be a very good Lancelot. I played him once in a community theatre production in my hometown. Apparently, we have the same hair."

"I'll remember that," Chris said as the two of them went ahead inside the recording studio to wait for the girls there instead of at the lobby. It was empty when they got there, but the booth was open so they stepped inside and took seats on a couple of stools that were set up on one corner. Darren whipped out his iPod, but Chris caught his attention before he could put the earpieces on.

"Hey Darren?"

"Yeah?" Those amber eyes turned to Chris and the younger actor almost forgot to breathe. Darren Criss had that incredible gift of looking at you and making you feel like you were the only person on his world. Chris flushed at the scrutinizing gaze, but he remembered his purpose.

"I was wondering if you'd like to get dinner later tonight? I mean coffee's great, but I'm having trouble sleeping lately and –"

"Of course!" The older actor chuckled. "Man, I'd love to! And yeah, ditto for coffee. I mean, we can still get one occasionally, but dinner would be great today, better even!"

Chris laughed at Darren's enthusiasm. Five year old Darren was really amusing. "Italian sound good?"

"Definitely." Darren nodded, his smile widening. Then, as if as an after-thought, he asked. "Why the sudden change? Not that I'm complaining or anything, but I thought you liked routines?" Chris met his inquiring eyes and felt that he could get lost in those pools of melted gold forever and he wouldn't care one bit.

"Change is good sometimes."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**(September 2010)**

The past two and a half months flew by in a frenzy. Chris and Darren were but officially together, but neither felt the necessity of putting a label on their relationship. True enough, their emotional closeness had progressed even further into the first few days of Fall, but they had yet to breach the barriers of physical intimacy –a subconscious decision on both their parts. Personally, Chris saw no issue with it. If ever, Darren was his first real relationship and he was in no rush to reach certain 'milestones' as other would like to put it. And besides, he'd rather not shake the still-tentative foundation they had established over dinners and coffee dates. Simply put, he did not want to ruin things by moving too quickly, especially with such a case as one Darren Criss. Chris still heeded his guide's words and let his guts dictate his actions. And his inner thoughts told him to just wait it out some more.

The funny thing was, Darren was thinking the exact same thing. He was in no rush to get things going with someone as amazing as Chris. He valued their friendship too much. Chris was the first person in a long while that he had felt comfortable with, and God knows what he'd do if he suddenly lost that new normalcy he had so painstakingly craved for himself after last year's tragedy. As long as all was well, he could not ask for anything more.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

Shooting their scenes for Glee Season 2 began soon enough. In between work, Chris was still changing things up little by little, trying his best to get Darren to open up to him more and eventually coax the older actor to get past his demons. They'd go out to dinner, see movies –even do something as reckless as going to Disneyland (which just sent Darren over the moon) in broad daylight without disguises. Both of them could feel the genuine happiness radiating just by being with each other and never questioned how effortless everything seemed to be. It was perfect. Now, if only Chris could deal with what brought him to this situation in the first place.

Chelsea rarely appeared to him nowadays. The closer Chris and Darren became, the more distant Chelsea seemed to be with the azure-eyed young man. Chris knew that there was something more than just him, not needing her as much, that made the female guide 'avoid' spending time with him. Over the course of a few months, Chris had began to genuinely like the spunky raven-haired woman as a friend or even, as an elder sister. So when she had suddenly began to be away more, Chris knew that something was up. Sadly, the on goings in real life eclipsed the much wanted time he needed to ponder this strange behavior coming from the supernatural being. As much as he wanted to focus on finding her out, his schedule did not exactly allow for idle time to think. If he wasn't doing Glee, he was writing his book, or recording some songs, or attending this event or another, or spending time with his friends. Or spending time with Darren.

Chris was hanging out at Darren's L.A. new one-bedroom apartment one afternoon. It was a rare day where they did not have work and he had volunteered to help the honey-eyed actor with some promotional material for his recently-released EP, Human. It was his first time inside the new bachelor pad. Said bachelor was currently busy ordering pizza (extra cheese, extra pepperoni) and Chris took his time to survey the relatively small place: It was Spartan, to say the very least, but it still managed to retain its owner's eclectic character. The walls were a warm ecru (Darren's mom chose the color, according to him), and the furniture were dark mahogany in contrast. There were attempts to bring in style and art with a couple of abstract paintings and steel sculptures done by some up and coming artists from Darren's hometown (San Francisco), but it was evident that functionality won above everything else. There was a flowering cactus plant (a house-warming gift from Lauren) looking quite out of place amongst DVDs and books on a built-in shelf, as well as a currently empty doggie bed under the glass coffee table. It would probably look just like any other living space, except for the compact raised platform on one side of the area, next to the kitchen space. A Korg keyboard sat in the middle, as did a stack of music sheets. Next to it lay what appeared to Chris as a cello case. He frowned thoughtfully. He knew Darren played a multitude of instruments, but he had no idea that the multi-talented instrumentalist played the cello as well. Chris got up from the black leather sofa he was perched on and approached the platform.

"Pizza's on the way!" A grinning Darren announced coming from the direction of his bedroom. "I hope you don't mind pineapples. I sort of got into them when we lived in Hawaii when I was –"

"You play the cello too?" Chris asked, pointing to the case resting against the piano base. Darren followed his finger and upon seeing where it was pointed at, slowly shook his head.

"My friend's." A small forced smile graced his lips. Then, "I took violin lessons when I was little, at my dad's insistence –it just didn't stick as much as piano did."

"Oh, okay." Chris said simply. If he noticed the sudden change in Darren's mood, he neglected it this time. "So, promo for the album?"

"Yeah," Darren quipped, scratching the back of his head. "I trust my PR with details and all that, but you know, creativity wise, I'd like your input. You're like, one of the most creative people I know." He smiled, taking a seat and motioning for Chris to do the same. Their shoulders were casually touching as they filled in the loveseat dominating the living space. Darren leaned back until his head was resting on the back of the sofa. "I'm thinking of doing a couple of shows –"

"Then do it –"

"I want to, honestly," the older actor briefly closed his eyes and swallowed. Chris, who was watching him closely, noticed the movement of the man's Adam's apple as it bobbed up then down. Chris found himself swallowing too. Darren was talking to him still.

"I doubt I'd have time outside of Glee, though," he voiced out his concern before looking at Chris once more. "I managed to squeeze in an interview for GMA, but that's after Thanksgiving still. Not that I'm not thankful or anything, but –"

"You want to be known outside of Glee," Chris finished for him. When Darren looked like he was about to protest, the younger actor continued. "I understand."

"It's just that it hasn't even started yet," said Darren with a sigh. "And yet, I can feel the hype getting onto me… I guess, I'm just scared…"

"Of what? Of being famous?"

"No, of forgetting myself," came the quiet, thoughtful reply. "Of forgetting who I am in the first place." Darren's voice trailed off and Chris had the sudden thought of wanting to hug the man next to him. Were they still talking about their careers?

"I had the same fears," he admitted, his azure eyes straying to the cactus plant right across the room. "At first, I was ecstatic to finally be able to do what I've always wanted to do. But as the days went by, I gradually felt the pull of stardom and fame –at first I was indifferent, thinking that it was an inevitability. But day in and day out of being under the scrutiny of thousands of prying eyes, I began to resent it."

"How did you deal? How do you continuously deal with it?" Darren asked, following Chris' gaze, folding his arms across his chest.

"I use the people around me as barrier," Chris mirrored Darren's pose, resting his head on the back of the loveseat. The black leather served as a lovely contrast to his alabaster skin. "From the hype, the fame, the notoriety… I'm lucky to have people who care about me, people who would not mind if I were Chris the Actor or Chris the Writer… my family has been a huge help on keeping me grounded." He turned to face Darren, when their eyes met. Somehow, opening up like that felt incredibly natural for Chris. In reality, he wasn't the type to talk about something so personal. What was with this man and lowering his inhibitions? Was it the soul bond?

"You're not lucky," Darren said, his eyes still onto Chris'. "You're strong. You're brave. I can only imagine what you have to go through every day, especially now that more people know your name and your story. I wish I were like you." The honest pronouncement hung in the air for what seemed like eons. Chris broke the awkward silence with a smile. Darren returned it with a slight upturn of his lips. He drew closer towards Chris, his face merely inches away from the younger actor's. Chris held his breath at the intense gaze Darren was giving him. Darren kept leaning closer. In no time, the older man's lips were almost touching his…

"Chris, I –" Darren was cut off by the sound of his doorbell and just like that, the two actors pulled apart. Chris knew he was blushing like mad. Darren was too, but he was first to recover.

"Wow, okay. If that's the pizza, they sure make true of their ad –Hot and Fast!" The curly-haired man cleared his throat before jovially leaping up from his seat to get the door. Chris used the time to compose himself. He shook his head in amusement as Darren hurriedly disappeared towards the direction of the main door. With the older actor gone, Chris' attention was once again shifted onto the cello case on the floor. It was covered in black pig skin leather with small, gold, peeling cursive letters monogrammed onto one side:

Chris felt the sudden urge to pick up the case and pop it open.

An elegant, perfectly maintained, polished Stradivarius cello greeted him –the mahogany body was gleaming under the fluorescent lights, the strings, taut and stretched. Chris had never even touched a cello in his life before, but when he took it out of its case, gently rested it on his lap, and placed his fingers tentatively against the fret, something magical happened.

The 20 year old found his other hand reaching for the horsetail bow and after taking a deep breath, he began moving it against the strings.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

Darren grinned at the pizza guy before slamming the door close. It was the pizza he had ordered, alright, perfectly hot and cheesy. The smell alone made his stomach rumble. He carried the humongous cardboard box towards the kitchen area, ready to attack it with Chris when something froze him in his tracks…

The melody was haunting –haunting and familiar. Darren felt his heart constrict. He dropped the pizza box. It landed on the carpeted floor with a dull 'thud.'

There was no mistaking that sound…

The sound of a lone cello playing Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

Darren's legs felt like lead as he forced himself to move towards the direction of that sound.

' _No… this can't be possible…'_

The sound grew louder as he approached the kitchen area where his makeshift stage was set. For a moment, the honey-eyed actor found it hard to breathe. Before entering the space, he closed his eyes briefly. Images of a not-so distant past flooded his senses…

' _No, she's gone… I'm imagining things.'_

Darren shook his head inwardly before opening his eyes once more. He stepped into the kitchen and forced himself to look.

The Stradivarius cello was out of its case.

The Stradivarius cello was out of its case and in the hands of one Chris Colfer. Chris Colfer, who had said once before that he could not play any instrument. The same Chris Colfer who now had his eyes closed and was seemingly making love to the antique cello like a possessed man.

Darren let out a startled gasp –it was enough to break whatever spell Chris was under in. The younger actor looked at him in surprise. Darren's amber eyes were sharp in shock and astonishment. It kept flicking back and forth between Chris and the cello in the young man's hands.

"Dare? I –I'm sorry," Chris gestured towards the cello. "I –I did not know how –what happened! I swear! I didn't know how, I mean, I picked it up, and -" At Darren's frigidly still form. Chris sighed dejectedly. "Look, I'll just put it back, I'm sorry –"

"Get out," Darren said quietly, his eyes looking hard all of a sudden. Chris felt helpless and offended at the same time at the curt tone. "Dare? What –look, I really sorry for –"

"I said, GET OUT."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

-END OF CHAPTER 5-

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**End A/N:**  The set up of Darren's new apartment was based on the one I had back in college… it was so much easier to describe something that I could actually see than make up something else. Same goes for the Detroit apartment from the previous chapter. Up Next:  **Chapter 6: Camera–** Will this new development keep our two lovers apart forever? Here's a sneak peak:

**010101010101010101010101010101**

(AN EXCERPT FROM  **CHAPTER SIX: CAMERA** )

"The hell I don't," said Chris, rage threatening to boil over inside of him. "Help me out here, Darren. Help me understand you. I can tell that we both know that there is something more than friendship going on between us –don't deny it. Just help me figure you out –help me figure out why you let me into your life like no one else, only for you to push me away like this! Tell me, because I can't stand this anymore!"

**010101010101010101010101010101**


	7. Camera

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Song is Infinite Universe –original by yours truly. Or you can just listen to Passenger Seat by Stephen Speaks for the same thematic feel.
> 
> P.S. To anyone wondering, I think this story has about 3 or four more chapters to go, plus an epilogue. Also, I have GOOD NEWS. I have rewritten this story and switched the characters and some other details to come up with an original novel of the same title. I'm in the final stages of drafting it. Hopefully, I can finish the whole thing before fall and have it published. I am planning on doing the same to my Klaine Fic The Andersons of Westerville as well (the working title for the original version is The Sacrifice). It's just funny that I came up with the fanfiction version first before the original, but hey, my mind works that way, so… I'm beginning drafting this now as I write that fanfic along side by side. I'll be updating TAOW later this week by the way, for those who are following it. I'm just tweaking the chapter.

**Chapter 6: Camera**

" _Like meteors, we collide/Drawn to each other, arms open wide/You take my hand in yours/And I realize/You're the center of my Infinite Universe"_

_-:-_

**(October 2010 –Los Angeles, California)**

Glee Season 2's first leg of promotional tours began simultaneously with the airing of its first episode. Ryan Murphy decided that for the benefit of the fans mostly, it was better to hold more 'Meet and Greets' in smaller venues in more key cities rather than just one big Gleek Convention in LA.

Their first stop was San Francisco. Aside from the usual Q and A portion, the cast were also to indulge requests for performances. To the relief of most of them (or not) most of the fan requests were directed towards Cory and Lea. Cory would turn red with embarrassment whenever he was asked to sing  _Faithfully_  live –he wasn't really that much of a singer. Good thing, Lea was.

Everything was going smoothly that night, even down to the skit between Will and Sue, until one fan decided to shake things up. A mousy-looking teenage girl in a black and shocking yellow Starkid shirt piped up.

"Can we hear Darren sing?"

Said actor in question looked up from his spot, obscured at one side of the stage, and met the smiling eyes of Ryan Murphy. The Glee producer nodded towards the spotlight, as if giving Darren a go-signal. The amber-eyed actor returned the nod and took his spot in the middle. A guitar was handed to him by one of the aides. As soon as it landed in his hands, his infamous lopsided grin was on full force.

"Good evening everyone, I'm Darren Criss. I'll be playing Blaine on the show. I honestly don't have any song prepared but –" He slipped the strap of his guitar on. "I'll be happy to take any requests –"

"Sing something original!" A voice from the crowd shouted. Darren chuckled and flashed a thumbs up.

"Gotcha! Well, this song is something I wrote when I was seventeen. This is for you all. I hope you guys enjoy." He mock-saluted his audience before beginning to strum:

**I remember the nights**

**We used to lie**

**Underneath the clear autumn sky**

**You'd reach for me**

**I'd hold your hand**

**And we lose ourselves in the world beyond**

**I remember the way**

**Your eyes would shine**

**When you glance over**

**And meet mine**

**You catch your breath**

**Take mine away**

**As we sail across the Milky Way**

And just like with every performance, the crowd is spellbound by the consummate performer that was Darren Criss. But they weren't the only ones…

Chris was stuck in his seat, his eyes glued at the enigmatic curly-haired actor. Ashley Fink, who sat next to him, gave the twenty year old a nudge. "That one's something, huh?" She gestured towards Darren. "I thought you guys, like, hang out or something. Isn't he supposed to be your new boyfriend or something?"

"Or something," Chris corrected her. "And not mine, Kurt's. And we've both been busy…" Chris let his sentiments trail off. There was no point explaining to Ashley how he had managed to mess things up with his supposed soulmate –not that he'd even try anyway.

**I remember the feel**

**Of your racing pulse**

**Underneath your ivory skin**

**I'd reach for you**

**Your heartbeat quickens**

**And everything else is forgotten**

**I remember that moment**

**I became yours**

**We came together, the world was ours**

**And when it was over**

**We both realized**

**This is just the beginning of our lives…**

_(flashback)_

" _ **Get out!" Darren's tone left no room for misinterpretation. "You –just –go!" The man's amber eyes automatically zeroed in on the cello in Chris' hands. He grabbed it and hugged it protectively, his back turned against Chris, who was watching the older actor with both surprise and concern.**_

" _ **Darren, I –"**_

" _ **Just –go. Please." The stern, commanding tone was no more. Instead, it was replaced by a sincere plea. "I –I need to be alone."**_

_**Chris glanced at the image of a broken man, then at the exit. He bit his lip. In a split-second, a decision was made. Enough was enough.** _

" _ **No."**_

" _ **What?" Darren looked at Chris as if the younger man had just lost his mind, but Chris held firm.**_

" _ **No. As in, no, I'm not leaving."**_

_**Darren frowned, setting the cello down and turning to face Chris. "I beg your pardon?" The slight edge was back in his voice –his typical defensive stance. "I believe I had asked you to leave. I need to be alone. Didn't you hear –"** _

" _ **I heard you." Chris matched Darren's tone. "And you heard me too. I've had enough of you pushing me away whenever things get tough! Last time I checked, we were at least friends, Darren Criss! Friends don't keep friends out like what you keep doing!"**_

_**Darren's gaze sharpened.** _

" _ **You have no idea what you're talking about."**_

" _ **The hell I don't," said Chris, rage threatening to boil over inside of him. "Help me out here, Darren. Help me understand you. I can tell that we both know that there is something more than friendship going on between us –don't deny it. Just help me figure you out –help me figure out why you let me into your life like no one else, only to push me away like this. Tell me, because I can't stand this anymore –"**_

" _ **I have my own problems." Darren pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just –I want you to stay out of it. It doesn't concern you, okay? Look, I care about you. A lot. I just –I can't have you caught up in my baggage and –"**_

" _ **You have a funny way of showing that you care." Chris said coldly. "Tell me I misunderstood."**_

" _ **I do feel something for you okay?" Darren spat out heatedly. "I feel it –so much and it scares me –it scares me like nothing else had ever scared me in my whole life!"**_

" _ **If you would just –"**_

" _ **It's the damn reason I can't let you get too close!" Darren was beyond keeping his composure, his golden eyes, aflame. "I don't want to lose you like I did –like I did –"**_

" _ **Like you lost her you mean?" Chris finished for him."I'm different from her." Darren froze as he avoided the ocean eyes.**_

" _ **I –know. I just –There are things –things about me –about my past that –just –I can't Chris. Please don't make me –not now, okay? This –this is all too fast."**_

" _ **You tell me everything except –" Chris threw his hands up in desperation. "If you won't talk to me, if you can't allow me past your walls, if you can't trust me enough –I don't know what the hell I'm doing here." Darren's eyes met Chris' again. There was a mix of inexplicable emotions dancing in them.**_

" _ **I –I'm sorry, I can't –I understand if –"**_

" _ **Save it. I think we both need alone time." Chris stormed out that night without another word. He climbed into his Mazda with tears streaming down his cheeks, never before feeling so frustrated in his life.**_

_(flashback)_

" _ **Chelsea! Where the heck are you?" Chris yelled as he parked inside the two-car garage in his L.A. suburb house.**_

" _ **Jesus! Don't scream!" The raven-haired guide suddenly materialized next to Chris in the passenger seat. "You're loud enough to wake the dead –and that's just not a figure of speech –"**_

" _ **I don't want to do this anymore!" Chris interrupted her angrily. Chelsea immediately stopped her monologue. "Don't –huh? But –"**_

" _ **He's so damn frustrating!" Chris spat out. "He always does this! I mean, I don't even know what I did wrong this time! I mean, I just picked up that stupid cello! I didn't even know how to play –suddenly I was making music –but he didn't have to –argh!" Chris' forehead on the steering wheel punctuated that statement.**_

" _ **Whoa, slow down." Chelsea held her hands up. "What did you –cello? A cello you say? You played it? And you didn't know how to, but you played?" Chris lifted his head and sighed. "Yes! What –How do I explain this? I was drawn to it, okay? It felt like I was possessed. Or something –I don't know! And then he saw me playing. Then he got upset. Then –"**_

" _ **Oh." Chelsea bit her lip guiltily. The young man with her gripped the steering wheel so hard until his knuckles were practically popping. He turned to her looking extremely annoyed.**_

" _ **Oh? That's all you say?" Chris yelled. "I'm done with this! Just leave me alone, okay? I don't fucking care anymore! I've done everything I can –just –get lost!" Chelsea looked positively mortified. She then sighed deeply before laying a comforting hand on her fuming charge. "Chris, please, just –give him more time, okay? I –Darren, he –he just –he needs you. I told you it would not be easy, but you're on the right track –"**_

" _ **Then why does it feel like I'm farther away from where I've began?" Chris did not fight the angry, frustrated sob that escaped his lips. "I really care about him, Chelsea. I do. I know it's the soulmate thing talking most of the time, but even if it wasn't there, I'd still…"**_

" _ **Oh honey," Chelsea drew the upset young man into a hug. "I could tell. Believe me, I can." She smiled at him softly. "Just –just don't pressure yourself, okay? I don't care how long it takes, but don't rush things. I promise I'll be here for you until everything becomes okay. Take your time, you'll see. It will all work out eventually."**_

" _ **Would you hate me if I told you that I want to take a break from it all? Just collect and recompose myself?" Chris asked his guide tentatively, then, as if just realizing something. "Oh God –I practically stormed out of his place –"**_

" _ **He'll be okay." Chelsea released him with a tiny shake of her head. "He needed that shake up, to be quite honest with you. And as for your request for time out," she ran a gentle thumb across Chris' tear-stained cheeks. "Any reason to spend more time with you would be greatly appreciated. It may be hard to believe now, but you've already managed to grow on me, Christopher –"**_

" _ **Don't call me that," Chris sniffed, which caused his guide to chuckle. The sound served as an easing balm to Chris' troubled soul, no matter how brief it was. He rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "Chelsea?"**_

" _ **Yes?"**_

" _ **I –it will take you longer to get your wings."**_

" _ **Pssh…" Chelsea waved him off. "Told you, that hardly matters to me now. I lasted a little more than a year without it, any longer would not make much of a difference. And besides, I enjoy my trainee status –less hectic schedule. And I don't have to face Peter and the council more often... you can't hear any complaints from me for that. And Gab's an awesome mentor, he –"**_

" _ **Gabriel? He's THE Archangel Gabriel, right?" Chris asked curiously. Chelsea smiled, taking the opportunity to distract her upset charge from his plight.**_

" _ **The one and only." She winked at him. "He's hot. Although as an angel, it would probably better to use the term cool. Don't want people to get the wrong connotation."**_

" _ **You like him?" Chris teased. Chelsea shook her head with a grin.**_

" _ **Doesn't work that way up above, Christopher. Angels cannot fall in love. There are rules for that. Anyway, I'm done with love." She absently fingered the sparkling ring on her hand, the one that Chris had noticed before. "One true love is enough for me…" her tone bordered on wistful again, before she noticed Chris' contemplative look. She recovered. "And yeah, well. Rules. Uhh. That."**_

" _ **Well, that sucks." Chris chose to comment, simply ignoring the lapse in his guide's façade.**_

" _ **Welcome to my sorry existence," Chelsea sighed. "Anyway, we get our adrenalin fix helping people out, so –"**_

" _ **I promise I'll do whatever it takes to help you earn your wings, " Chris told her earnestly. Chelsea reached for the young actor's hand and squeezed it gently. "It's alright. As long as you and Darren –" She shrugged.**_

" _ **I'll do it. I just –I need to breathe." Chelsea smiled. "Of course, honey. No worries .Just keep yourself from having a panic attack and we'll all be on track. NO rushing. I'll be here when you call for me."**_

" _ **Thanks." Chris replied sincerely. "Just one thing before you go though."**_

" _ **What's that?"**_

" _ **Where –do you go when you're not here –what exactly do guides like you do when you're not with your charges?" Chris asked. Chelsea looked amused. "Oh you –curious Chris. First of all, that's two, not one, things. But to answer your questions, one, I roam around –nowhere specific. Two, I sometimes report to Gab, practice polo with Mike and mostly do something that annoys Peter… like making noise." Chris cocked and eyebrow.**_

" _ **You –sing? By any chance do you play any instruments? Was that your guide magic that gave me the astonishing ability to play the cello?" Chelsea mimicked Chris' expression. "Yes. Yes. No. I can't give out gifts like that. Must be a latent skill you have." She then smiled. "Whatever it is, use it, okay? Gotta go. Later!"**_

_(end flashback)_

**And just like that**

**We're cruising among the stars**

**Hand in hand we get closer**

**Look how we've come so far**

**Like meteors we collide**

**Drawn to each other**

**Arms open wide**

**You take my hand in yours**

**And I realize**

**You're the center of**

**My infinite universe**

Chris was jerked back to his present reality by the deafening applause that greeted Darren's exit. After that walk-out from the older man's apartment and his subsequent talk with Chelsea, Chris indeed took a break from all things Darren. It was hard to ignore the man's calls and text messages –even harder to ignore the longing looks that the man himself were giving Chris. And it wasn't only the azure-eyed countertenor that noticed how withdrawn Darren seemed to have become as the days went by. Ryan had, at times, cornered Chris to ask him if he knew something. The only thing the young man could do was deny knowledge of anything.

Now, as Darren passed by him, seeing the lost look in the curly-haired man's face, made Chris realize that it was probably enough. He was in this for good, soulmate or not. Enough procrastinating. The next act was up: The Unholy Trinity. Chris said a quick goodbye to Ashley and quietly slipped backstage to follow Darren to the dressing area where he was probably going to take a little water break. The area was currently empty except for the two of them.

"Hey!" Chris called out to Darren's retreating back. The sounds from outside were muffled by the thick curtain that served as the entrance to the dressing tent. Darren stopped in his tracks but did not turn. Chris approached him slowly. "Hey, um, that song –you were great out there."

Darren finally turned to face him. Chris held his breath.

"Um, thanks," the older actor said quietly, shifting the guitar on his back. His amber eyes were trained on the floor, looking very much uncomfortable. At that moment, Chris had wanted to do nothing more than slap himself for knowingly causing that pain in Darren's otherwise lively eyes.

"Look, Dare –"

"Look, Chris –"

"Go ahead," Chris smiled when they both spoke at the same time. Darren gave him a small one of his own.

"I –I missed –talking to you," the older actor admitted. "I missed you, Chris. This past couple of weeks –I –all I could do was think of how do I make it up to you. I was a jerk and I know it was wrong of me to keep pushing you away like that and –"

"Hold it, just hold right there," Chris interrupted Darren's ramblings. "I'm going to stop you right there. You did nothing wrong. It was me. I kept on pushing you to talk when clearly it was still a sore topic for you. You freaked out. Then I ignored you. I'm sorry."

Darren looked thoughtful for a moment, before breaking out into a big, genuine smile. "Can we just agree that we're both at fault and forget it? And I promise to talk to you more –just give me time, is that okay? I mean, I'll tell you everything, I just –"

"Of course," Chris took a step closer towards Darren. "I understand. I won't push you until you're comfortable." He held out his hand. "We can start moving forward now. Shaken on that?" Darren looked at Chris' proffered limb amusedly before pulling the younger actor into a tight hug, breaking the final barrier, crossing the final hurdle in their road to reconciliation.

"Really, Colfer? You ignore me for a month and we've regressed to handshakes?" Darren made a show of his point by burying his face in the crook of Chris' neck. "Just for that, you owe me coffee for a week. On second thought, make that two."

Chris laughed, tightening his grip on the man who was undoubtedly his newest best friend, and quickly becoming certainly more than that. He breathed deeply, taking in the scent of sandalwood, pine and green apples that was uniquely Darren –he had honestly missed this.

"I ignore you for a few weeks and you're calling me 'Colfer,' huh, Criss? You never call me that –even before. Just for that, you owe me dinner. Italian. And pizza doesn't count."

Darren pulled back and gave Chris his best puppy dog eyes. "Even if it has extra cheese?"

"Stop giving me that look, you monkey!" Chris chastised him. "You know I can't resist that kicked puppy look of yours." Darren retaliated by widening his eyes and pouting.

"Come on, you know you love my puppy face! And you absolutely love cheese! You looooooove cheeeeeeese as much as you love meeeeeeee!" Darren gestured wildly like a game show host, which sent Chris into hysterics.

"But I love Diet Coke more," Chris pointed out in jest. "It will always be my number one." Darren pretended to look offended and grabbed his chest.

"You wound my mortal heart, good sir." He then pretended to faint, which only caused Chris to laugh even harder.

"Fine, Pizza. Extra Cheese. But –"

"But? But? But?" Darren cocked an inquiring eyebrow. Honestly. He behaved much like a kid sometimes.

"You have to make it from scratch," Chris told him matter-of-factly. Darren's eyes brightened before putting on his genuine Italian accent.

"But of course, Bella! Your idea is ze magnifique!" He pretended to smack the tips of his fingers. "My apartment at 7, zee chef's place, tomorrow night?"

Chris rubbed his rapidly aching cheeks. What was this guy doing on Glee and not hosting Saturday Night Live? "Of course, you clown. I'll bring wine."

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**(Somewhere Out There)**

Chelsea sat on a puff of white cloud in a corner, absently staring off into space. Her long, slender arms were loosely wrapped around a cello resting on her lap. Her onyx eyes were gazing far away seemingly lost in worlds unseen. Every so often, she would bite her lip.

This tableau was what greeted Archangel Gabriel, Head of the Seventh Circle, when he arrived from his meeting with the other council members. Worry immediately permeated his thoughts. "Chelsea? Is something the matter?" Gabriel asked as he slowly approached his newest protégé, his blue eyes locking on to her curled form. Chelsea made no move to acknowledge her mentor's presence, so Gabriel wasn't sure if she had heard him. He made to call her attention again when she spoke, unmoving.

"It's so hard, Gab." Chelsea sighed. "I'm so near yet so far –and –and it's driving me insane!"

Gabriel stopped in his tracks momentarily, before letting out a deep breath of his own. "Is that why you've been avoiding your charge lately?" He asked. "You're stronger than you think you are, Chelsea –"

"What if I'm not?" Chelsea challenged back, her voice openly strained. Her eyes never left the far view she was looking at, but Gabriel could see the tears forming in them. "What if I'm not cut out for this, Gab? Why? Why me? Have you not taken enough away from me? You took me from my life, my love –and now –now you rub it in my face too? Have I done something really bad in any of my past lifetimes? Why do you guys hate me so –"

"Stop." Gabriel cut her off with a stern tone, the soft look on his features belying his real sentiments though. "Stop saying that, Chelsea. You know that's not true. You were chosen for this because you're special. You have a steadfast soul, a caring, giving heart –"

"Gab, please," Chelsea finally looked her mentor directly in the eye. The Archangel felt himself recoil at the image of a profound loss and betrayal on those dark irises. "Please, Gab. I can't –I can't stand seeing –seeing him and not at least telling him –talking to him. Isn't there any way -"

Gabriel shook his head gently. "If I could, I would let you. But you know how it works. You can't appear to anyone who isn't your charge. Peter made the rules clear. Even I have to follow them –"

"I don't know if I can do this anymore," said Chelsea, going back into staring off to space. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is seeing him like that and not being able to just tell him it's okay –that I'm okay –that he can just forget –"

"You have a way to help him," Gabriel told her. "You are his soulmate's guide –"

"I was his soulmate too, you know?" A small shaky voice that was Chelsea's permeated the vast expanse of clouds and light. "He was mine –"

Gabriel closed the gap between them and laid a gentle hand on his protégé's shoulder. "Chris is Darren's soulmate now, and he belongs to him in return."

Chelsea was silent for a moment before she took a shuddering breath. With one hand, she positioned her cello and her bow, poised to play at any given moment. Gabriel recognized this and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Chelsea? You –"

"I know," Chelsea said firmly, interrupting him. "I know, Gabriel. Let it go."

Without further ado, the solo concerto began.

It was a piece even Gabriel hasn't heard before –and that was saying something. Being an immortal, almost omnipresent being tend to expose one to a lot of things –different types of music being an example. He has heard every piece ever written and played in existence. But the one the female guide was performing now was new to him. The tempo, every hill and valley, every slur and hold, each single note and the way they caressed his ears was alien to him.

It could only mean one thing: it was an original composition. One that was only recently done.

As with every performance, Chelsea's eyes were closed, but even that couldn't stop her tears from escaping their confines. Gabriel watched with a mixture of awe and sympathy as his protégé poured her heart out into her piece. Like this, at her most raw, she was truly heartbreakingly beautiful. He could only imagine what human heart would not fall for her. Gabriel shook his head inwardly. He must not entertain such thoughts. Chelsea was destined for something greater and he will not be the one to hinder that.

As with her previous performances, Chelsea's cello playing centered on heartfelt, somber, yet strikingly powerful melodies –this original piece was to be no exception. Her music not only spoke, but told stories and expressed the deepest desires of its maestro's heart. Gabriel must've stood in his spot just watching the conflicted woman for days, and it wouldn't have mattered to him. Her music was almost spell-binding.

So when she had finally played and held the last note and rested the cello and bow on the ground, it took the Head Archangel a moment to collect his bearings. Chelsea's tears were openly flowing now.

"That was lovely," he told her gently. "When did you have time to compose that?"

Chelsea surreptitiously wiped the saline staining her cheeks and turned to her mentor with a small smile on her lips. "Chris doesn't call on me as much lately. I find time to try and make sense of my existence when I'm not baby-sitting him or creating chaos in this realm."

"You've grown to genuinely like him?" Gabriel asked, a mild hint of surprise in his timber. The female guide nodded with a sigh.

"He's a great kid. Reminds me of myself a bit. If things had been different, we might've been friends. But as it is –" Chelsea paused and shook her head. "I don't blame him for whatever I'm going through right now. I don't want to. I shouldn't. But it's hard not to think of what could have become." She then glanced at the ring on her finger, sparkling traitorously in the light. 'Gab, can I ask you as question?"

"Of course,"

"I sort of know why this followed me in the afterlife –" Chelsea gestured at the diamond-encrusted band. "But –but when Darren moves on, will it stay with me?"

Gabriel looked at his protégé, then at the ring, then back at her again. "I don't think you need to worry about that, Chelsea." He told her with an honest smile. He cleared his throat next. "Now, you need to tell me what you call that brilliant piece of music you've just played. Maybe you can play it for a larger audience? At the next meeting perhaps?"

Chelsea looked skeptical for a moment, but eventually she shrugged. "I doubt Peter would allow me to play if before the Council. Especially after he learns what the piece is called."

"Oh," Gabriel looked curious. "Why so? What is it called?"

Chelsea gave him a knowing look.

"Bastard in B minor."

Laughter from an angel and his protégé soon filled that vast expanse of nothingness.

**010101010101010101010101010101**

-END OF CHAPTER 6-

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**End A/N:**  I know that the manner by which I portray angels isn't really canonical, but what the heck, they're much more interesting this way. Coincidentally, ' **Bastard in B Minor'**  does not exist. You can use your imagination for this one. I prefer to pretend that this is similar to  **'Let It Go'** , only darker and angrier instead of uplifting and liberating; heavier on the strings, slower tempo (I'd give you a rendition with my cello, but I don't have the time nor the resources, so…)–without the lyrics. Credits to  _Robert and Kristen Anderson-Lopez_.

Up Next:  **Chapter 7: Action–** Will Chris finally discover the truth due to a close encounter? Or will it because of Joey's well-meaning loud mouth? (Insert evil laugh). Here's a sneak peak:

**010101010101010101010101010101**

(AN EXCERPT FROM  **CHAPTER SEVEN: ACTION** )

"Thanks for being there for him man," Joey smiled at Chris as the two of them watched their common friend make a fool of himself atop an oval dinner table prop that they were using. "Thanks for being what any of us failed to be for him."

"I would do it without second thought," Chris admitted, feeling oddly at ease with Darren's best friend, despite having just me him. "I care about him."

"It's just refreshing to see him like this," Joey continued. "It's almost as if the last year did not happen." He shook his head. "We thought he'd never recover from Chelsea's death –"

"Wait, what?"

**010101010101010101010101010101**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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> 
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> Until next time! Love, C.


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